


Leave What's Heavy Behind

by KaytiKazoo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), Developing Relationship, Disability, Good Grant Ward, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 30,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytiKazoo/pseuds/KaytiKazoo
Summary: Fitz and Ward meet at work, and one New Years Eve, manage to become something more. This is the story of how they fall in love, and overcome what tries to tear them apart.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Grant Ward, Past John Garrett/Grant Ward, Past Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

_ I want to see your sadness,  _

_ I want to share your sins  _

_ I want to bleed your blood  _

_ and I want to be let in _

-Heavy by  Birdtalker

If he traced this series of events back far enough, he’s sure that the fault would land on Jemma Simmons for encouraging him. That’s what he thinks when John Garrett’s gun is pointed directly at his temple, a strong arm wrapped around his neck to keep him in place. Most things, if he traced them back far enough, could be blamed on Jemma Simmons. Even dating Grant Ward would fall with Jemma Simmons. Falling in love with Grant Ward was entirely his own fault, of course, but he didn’t want to think of that, staring at Grant in the underground parking garage, Grant’s eyes wide and his hands up in surrender. He’d still blame Simmons for this if he lived.

See, it all started with Simmons linking arms with him and telling him that she’d heard through the grapevine that her company, Shield Technologies, was hiring. 

“Of course, it’s not in engineering because the geniuses there are lifers, but it’s in my department, Project Management, and we’re looking for someone bright and good at multitasking and plays well with others,” she said.

“I don’t play well with others,” he reminded her. “Just you.”

“Well, luckily, it’s in my department, and everyone is lovely, so please, think of applying.”

They’d met in college, two  sixteen-year-old freshmen in the same dorm, and had stuck with each other ever since. When they’d graduated, Simmons had gone on to finish her PhDs (plural, three, in fact), and Fitz had been hired to work as an engineer for Cyber Secure. Cyber Secure had folded after three years of employment, and Fitz was left jobless in a market not looking to hire anyone. 

“I’m not feeling very Project Managerial, Simmons,” he said.

“Too bad. Let’s put in an application before you have to move into my apartment permanently.”

“Fine, Jemma, I’ll put in an application, but don’t be disappointed when I don’t get hired. I have a degree in engineering, not Project Management.”

“I’ll train you to be what they need. You’re smart. You’ll pick up fast. I’ll put in my recommendation that they hire you, and Coulson will do it, because he’s a fan of me.”

“What does  _ that  _ mean?” Fitz asked, looking up at Simmons, startled. 

“I saved a project last quarter that could have ruined the company if it had gone wrong, and he’s given me glowing reviews ever since.”

“So, you’re not fucking this Coulson guy?”

“Of course not!”

“I just had to check!”

“You did not  _ have _ to check,” she replied.

“I did. I need to -”

“I don’t need you to check on me, Fitz. I’m a big girl. Besides, I’m dating Daisy from my department, don’t tell Coulson, we haven’t sorted that out with HR yet.”

“Daisy. That’s a girl’s name.”

“Daisy is a girl.”

He paused, nodded, and said, “okay, well, if I don’t meet Daisy, I’m going to absolutely tell Coulson from HR.”

“Coulson is not from HR.”

“Whatever. I’ll tell someone. Let me meet your girlfriend.”

“Apply for the job, and I’ll let you meet my girlfriend.”

He had already decided, and agreed to apply, but he smiled and nodded at Jemma.

That somehow led to Leopold Fitz working as a Project Manager alongside Jemma Simmons at  Shield Technologies, and unfortunately, Grant Ward. Not unfortunately. Grant Ward was hot, and mysterious, and rarely smiled, and was Daisy Johnson’s best friend. 

“He’s so goddamn hot,” Fitz bemoaned to Simmons one night fresh off his training. Simmons had held his hand through training, sitting at his side while she walked him through every excruciating detail of her very boring job that did not light a fire underneath either one of them, but it paid the bills. Afterwards, though, he was seated all the way across the office from Simmons, so far that their only communication options were email or smoke signals, and directly across from Grant Ward. Grant Ward was an actual menace, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow, with his long fingers, with his handsome face and its perfect angles, with his permanent unhappy face. God, Leo Fitz thought, he’d be so fucking beautiful if he’d smile. “He’s so fucking hot, Simmons. You could have lured me into this job by showing me his picture.”

“I know, Fitz. He’s perfect. But -”

“I know, you have Daisy.”

“But I will keep that in mind the next time I want you to do something,” she said. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“Who? Ward? Absolutely not. The man is a brick wall.”

“He’s not.”

“I asked him for a paperclip the other day and he stared at me for a full minute before he pushed the box towards me without a word. I’ve worked there for what, a month now, and he’s literally never said a single word to me. How do I turn that into a conversation about how I would like to put my mouth all over his and all his other things?”

“Start with that?”

“That I want to put my mouth all over his everything?”

“Yes.”

“I think that’s sexual harassment; it’s against company policy, it was in the handbook, and orientation. They made a very big deal pointing out that we don’t come on to anyone.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled at him nonetheless, patting his hand.

“Maybe he’ll surprise you, and say thank you the next time you hand him a file, and there’s your opening.”

“Thank you is an opening for let me bone you?”

“Maybe to Grant it is.”

Fitz worked in that god forsaken department for two years alongside what he became to consider his friends. He, Daisy, and Jemma went out weekly, and when he needed advice on more than just work, Phil Coulson was a fairly reliable friend to call on. Even Melinda May, one of the senior managers was good for a laugh outside of work. But Grant Ward was hard to crack.

“Hey,” Fitz said, leaning forward on his desk to look at Grant Ward on the other side, who looked up but didn’t speak to acknowledge Fitz. “What are you doing for New Years Eve this weekend?”

“I don’t have any plans, but I’m not a big party fan.”

“Me neither, but Simmons always throws this big thing at her place, and she wanted me to make sure that everyone was invited because sometimes she gets lost in looking at Daisy and forgets that other people need to be invited too so it’s not just me, her, and Daisy in her apartment watching the ball drop, except that Simmons and Daisy would just be making out in the corner while I watched the ball drop all by myself. So, if you want, we’re getting together at her place at 8, having dinner, drinks, the whole thing, and she wants you to be there.”

“Oh,” Grant said softly. 

“I mean, you don’t have to, but it’s better than sitting alone watching the ball drop and drinking with your dog,” Fitz said. 

“Insulting my plans isn’t how you get me to say yes, Leo.”

“Just think about it. I’m starting to think you don’t like me, Grant.”

He leaned back away from Grant’s side of the desk and turned back to the computer, satisfied, and when he looked up, Grant had the tiniest smile on his face where he was staring at his own computer. 

Slowly, Leo Fitz decided, he was going to win Grant Ward over, even if they never fell in love and put their mouths together in that delicious way that lead to Grant’s mouth on all of Leo’s other things. 

It started with the New Years Eve party. Leo was three beers into the night, which started before the party did, when Grant came in through Simmons’ front door. He hadn’t shaved that week the way he normally did, so he was sporting a five o’clock shadow with clothes Fitz had never seen in their two plus years of working directly across from each other. Of course, Grant didn’t do casual, even on Casual for a Cause day. He wore his white button-downs and slacks, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up except for on meeting days where he wore a suit jacket with a tie. No, the Grant Ward that walked into Simmons’ apartment was wearing a leather jacket, a white  v-neck , and  _ jeans _ . Tight, form-fitting, dark jeans.

Fitz grabbed onto Simmons as she went to pass with a fresh drink for Daisy.

“We made a mistake,” he hissed.

“What? Everything’s great!” she said.

“Grant Ward.”

She turned and followed his gaze, and let out a small, “holy shit.”

“I cannot possibly look at him looking like that all night, Simmons. I will die.”

“Then, don’t look at him.”

“I invited him, I can’t just avoid him.”

“Just be everywhere that he’s not.”

“That’s not helpful.”

She shrugged.

“Have a drink, babe. Relax. Tonight is not about Grant Ward, or – oh my god, look at his ass, Fitz. I’ve never seen him in jeans.”

“Fuck, Jesus, how am I supposed to not think about Grant Ward when he looks like  _ that _ ?”

“Just get drunk, problem solved. Oh, there’s Daisy. I’ve got to go.”

She darted through an opening in the crowd, leaving Fitz alone with his drink and his obsession with the width of Grant’s shoulders. He took a long drink from his fourth beer, ready to get absolutely shit-faced and miss the ball drop just to avoid Grant, who was walking towards him. Who was absolutely walking towards Fitz without hesitation.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, and wanted to head towards the drink  station Simmons had set up on her breakfast bar. 

“Hey,” Grant said, slipping behind a couple swaying to the beat, well, not to the beat, but what Fitz imagined what a drunk couple would think was to the beat. 

“Glad you could make it,” Fitz said, and there was a tiny slur to the tail end of his sentence that he wasn’t a fan of.

“ Headstart , huh?” Grant said, nodding to the beer in Fitz’s hand.

“Wouldn’t have one if you’d been here earlier,” Fitz offered. “Want one?”

“Sure,” he agreed, and Fitz took that opportunity to take the lead, walking them through Simmons’ apartment to the bar. If he stood in front of Grant and didn’t face him, which was not ideal for socializing therefore not a permanent solution, he might make it through the night. 

Simmons, as always, went all out for the party. Beyond the typical cold beer and mixed drink ingredients, which were laid out to best allow mixing efficiently, she’d made a powerful punch guaranteed to knock you on your ass. Fitz had avoided that since  uni when he’d hooked up with their Resident Advisor, a dorky boy with bright green eyes. It hadn’t been unpleasant, and it was the first time that a boy that he hadn’t known since nursery had had his hand down Fitz’s pants. It did mean that the RA had blushed every time he saw Fitz afterwards, and that Fitz had gained a little bit of a reputation around their dorm hall.

“I’d stay away from that,” Fitz said as Grant stirred the punch curiously, “if you like your dignity intact.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There is,” Fitz answered but didn’t elaborate.

“Interesting,” Grant said but didn’t elaborate. He grabbed a beer from the bucket of ice to the left of the punch bowl. “So, you and Jemma met in college?”

“We did, yeah,” Fitz answered. “We lived in the same dorm, were both really young, and we were in a lot of the same classes. So, inevitably, we became friends and we’ve been together ever since.”

Grant used the counter to open his beer, even though Simmons had a bottle opener on the counter right by Fitz’ hip. He took a drink from his beer, and pointedly did not look at Grant as he did the same. He didn’t need the image of Grant’s lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle burned into his mind forever. 

“What made you decide to come? You don’t seem like a party guy,” Fitz finally asked, turning to look at Grant who was playing with the label on his bottle.

“You asked me to,” Grant answered. “Seemed rude to say no.”

“Well,” Fitz started to say, unsure how to finish that sentence. Luckily, he didn’t have to, Jemma’s kind of ex, Will, started shouting nearby. He turned to watch him.

“Women, man! They’re all bitches! Yeah, even you!” Will slurred, pointing at a girl from the mail room at Shield Tech that Jemma had made friends with when she first started working. “They’re all self-righteous sluts!”

“Wow, Will  _ really _ needs to slow down.”

“I think he had the punch,” Grant said.

“Leopold!” Will shouted, pointing towards Fitz and stumbling towards him. “Commiserate with me!”

“Commiserate, big word for someone this plastered,” Grant commented.

“I’m not going to commiserate, Will. I don’t agree.”

“Jemma broke your heart too, though!”

“She really didn’t, mate.”

“She did!”

“She’s my best friend, Will.”

“That makes it even  _ worse _ ! Friend zoned! To every man in the world, and now some chick! Come on, Fitz.  _ I _ understand you.”

“Her name is Daisy, by the way, and she’s actually great.”

He started to tip, and Fitz reached out to steady him. Will grabbed onto Fitz’s arms, grip tight, to keep himself up.

“Will, you’re done for the night, man. No more drinks.”

“No, no. Don’t. I’m good. I’m not drunk.”

“You are.”

“How can you not hate Jemma for not seeing you when you’re right there? And choose some chick!”

“Her name is Daisy,” Fitz repeated.

“That’s not the point! You should tell her that you’re in love with her, get your girl!”

“William, look at me. I am gay,” Fitz said slowly, holding him up and looking him in the eyes without wavering. “And you need to go home.”

“Boo,” Will mumbled, slumping into Fitz. “You’re not gay, Leo.”

“Oh, boy, please don’t.”

“You can’t be. We talked sports.”

“Yikes,” Grant said from beside him.

“Okay, let’s just get you to a cab, bud.”

Grant set down his drink and helped Fitz get Will through the party without question.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Will asked at the lift while Fitz called an Uber.

“Can’t be, I’m not gay,” Fitz said. Grant laughed, and Fitz had never heard a sound like that before. He’d do anything to hear him laugh again.

“Wait, what.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“He’s tall,” Will muttered into Fitz’s ear. “And handsome. You should date him, then.”

“Thanks, Will. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“More girls for  _ me _ ,” he said. “Listen, Fitz, I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“Jem is great.”

“She is,” Fitz agreed, and thankfully, the lift doors opened before them. “Come on, onto the lift.”

“The lift,” Will chuckled, trying to mimic Fitz’s accent and falling somewhere between Northern England and Northern Ireland instead. “That’s cute.”

“Get in. Please.”

Will let him load him into the lift, Grant blessedly doing most of the work while Fitz set to ordering the ride for Will

“What’s your address, Will?”

“Why? Going to send bees to my house?” Will asked defensively.

“Bees? Why would I – why bees? Wait, no, don’t. Don’t tell me. I’m trying to send  _ you  _ to your house.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Will, your address.”

“Right. 6015 Clayton Ave.”

“Ok.”

“No, wait, I’m moving.”

“What house do you want to sleep in?”

“17 Riverside Dr.”

“Okay. Well, I’m definitely going to be billing you for this, Will.”

“You’re very nice, Leopold.”

“And you don’t know me well enough to call me Leopold this often.”

Grant coughed, trying to cover another laugh, and Fitz smiled to himself, pleased. 

“You’re very good. You’re a good person. You could’ve kicked me out and let me sleep on the street, but here you are, helping me out, and your very pretty not-boyfriend is helping! You could be fucking in a closet somewhere!”

“I don’t do anything in the closet anymore.”

“Why?” Will asked. 

“I – it’s –” 

“Besides,” Grant offered to distract Will, “there’s certainly no fun in closets when there are perfectly good fire escapes to fuck on.”

“Oh.  Voy – foyer –  vo – fuck.”

The ride was about five minutes away as Fitz and Grant managed to get Will out of the lift and onto the ground floor entryway. 

“Take your time. You’ll get there,” Fitz said.

“You’re lucky,” Will said, bouncing away from his previous thought.

“Why’s that?”

“Men aren’t that complicated. Dating men must be good. Nice. Easy.”

Except, Fitz thought, that if he came onto someone, like Grant, and they weren’t amicable about it, he could get the shit kicked out of him, or worse. Except that when he went out to the gay bars with Jemma and Daisy, there was a chance that instead of getting a blow job in the bathroom after a few too many whiskeys, he was going to end up getting his head kicked in on the way home. 

“Try it, see if you like it,” Fitz said instead, tired, setting Will down on the couch by the door designated for those waiting for one of the residents.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Hey,” Grant said softly. “I’ll babysit him if you want to get back to the party.”

“And who will babysit you to make sure you come back?”

He stared at Fitz for a moment, eyes carefully taking him in, while Fitz stared back. He was unable to look away, Grant’s eyes bright.

“Do you want me to?”

“I invited you, didn’t I?”

“I thought Jemma invited me.”

Fitz shrugged, and leaned towards Will to push him back up as he started to tip. He was singing under his breath.

“If I were to date guys, I’d date you, Leopold. You look very nice and kissable. Like, your lips are beautiful.”

“I don’t make out with straight men,” Fitz said.

“Aren’t his lips beautiful, Tall Man?  Your not-boyfriend is extremely fuckable. No offense, or whatever.”

Fitz sighed, rolling his eyes at him.

“Sure, I certainly think so,” Grant said casually, and Fitz spluttered on the breath he was taking.

“You should. Make sure you do. That’s what went wrong with Jemma and me. I didn’t give her –”

“Okay. Looks like your ride is here,” Fitz said interrupting. “Up you go, Will.”

“Make sure – hey, look at me. Make sure he  fu – look, sex is important, Leopold. Make sure he fucks you good.”

“Okay, my sex life isn’t your concern.”

“He’s too hot to let go, you know.”

“I know.”

“And so are you.”

“Thanks, Will.”

“I  – I miss having someone to kiss.”

He was making doe eyes at Fitz, and his eyes flitted down to Fitz’s mouth.

“I don’t make out with straight men,” Fitz repeated. “Let’s get you into the cab.”

“What’s it like?”

“Getting into a cab?”

“Kissing.”

“You’ve been kissed before. I know that for a fact. I’ve seen it.”

“It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten.”

“Sober up. Find a girl. Kiss her. Problem solved.”

The Uber was waiting out front while Fitz led Will out to it. 

“Don’t puke in this nice man’s car or I will hunt you down and send you to space in a very tiny rocket that I built myself,” Fitz said. “Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Thank you,” Fitz said to the driver. “And I’m sorry. I’ll tip in the app for your trouble.”

“Thank you.”

Once he was bundled in the car and the car was leaving, Fitz turned back to Grant. 

“Thank you. And I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Him, and the us together thing.”

“Oh, that’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Still, people get weird when someone assumes that they’re gay, especially if that gayness is in a relationship with  _ me _ .”

Grant frowned at that.

“Come on, it’s freezing out here,” he said to distract himself. 

He didn’t want to think of Grant the way that Will had drilled into his brain. He didn’t want to imagine the way Grant’s hands might feel running up his back, curving around his hips, holding his jaw as they kissed. Because if he started thinking about that, he’d get some crazy notion that Grant Ward would want to do those things to him. And, up until recently, Grant Ward didn’t even really tolerate him. Tonight was the anomaly, he had to remind himself of that as they walked back inside, his elbow brushing against Grant’s. He was glad he got to just hang out with Grant, and he wasn’t going to ask for any more than that. 

Back inside, Simmons was at the drink bar, pouring herself a punch while Daisy finished a nearly empty beer, a new one lined up at her hip.

“Hey, where were you? Your face is very red, look at your poor ears, Fitz!” Simmons said as they walked up. “Were you outside? Without your coat? You’re going to catch a cold!”

“We were escorting Will to a cab,” he answered, ignoring her mothering. “Did you hear him?”

“We did. I think everyone in a square mile heard him,” Daisy replied.

“He apparently thinks that I’m in love with Simmons, and should hate her for friend-zoning me.”

“Don’t forget that he also thinks you’re  fuckable ,” Grant added.

“Wait, what?” Daisy said.

“Will? Kind of ex, kind of not Will?”

“Apparently, he’s just lonely and just horny enough to think that he can solve his problems with having sex with me. Nothing like desperate straight men thinking it’s a compliment that they’d fuck you, right?”

“That’s true, but like, you are very  fuckable , Leo,” Daisy said.

“Let’s just move past this conversation.”

“No, wait, go back,” Simmons said. “What was – he thinks you’re in love with me, but also said that he’d fuck you? How – how drunk was he?”

“Extremely,” Fitz said. “He maybe also thinks that I’m dating Grant because I’m gay and there’s a man nearby.”

“You’d make a cute couple, though,” Daisy said, and Fitz swore she was taking to Grant instead.

“Shush,” he replied. “And on top of that, he doesn’t think I’m gay because I like football.”

“ Ahh , the drunk opinions of a socially repressed man,” Simmons said. “He must have shown up drunk. I mean, not even the punch could affect someone that fast.”

“I beg to differ,” Fitz said.

“Just because you got wasted when we were sixteen after two cups and felt up our RA doesn’t mean everyone will do the same. You were a lightweight then.”

“Excuse me, our RA felt  _ me _ up,” Fitz said, taking up a fresh beer, his old one abandoned when they’d taken Will out. “His hand was down my pants first.”

“How old was this guy? Weren’t you like, twelve when you went to college?” Daisy asked.

“I was sixteen, which is a normal age to go to uni, and I think he was nineteen, maybe? I didn’t exactly ask for his ID before letting him get me off.”

“He wasn’t that much older than us,” Simmons agreed, “and Fitz becomes very forward when he’s drunk. And he was  _ very _ drunk . ”

“Alright, I’d really like a subject change. Shouldn’t you be refilling the snack trays, Simmons?”

“Why? Are they empty?”

She pivoted towards the snack table, and Fitz took her distraction as a chance to escape. He grabbed the spare bottle of Jack Daniels and gestured Grant to follow him, and he surprisingly did. Fitz opened the kitchen window and climbed out onto the fire escape.

“I was kidding earlier, I’m not actually into voyeurism,” Grant said from behind him.

“Damn,” Fitz laughed. “And here I thought I was going to get lucky tonight.”

He led them up the two floors to the roof, stepping over the ledge. When Simmons had first moved in, they’d brought a bottle of cheap wine up onto the roof, a bright full moon overhead, the sky clear and the summer air thick with humidity. They’d passed the bottle back and forth toasting their futures, and every year on the anniversary of Simmons living in that apartment, they’d climb the fire escape and toast the past year and the year to come. 

“Trying to get me alone, Leo?”

“It’s apparently working,” Fitz said, gesturing around him. “I’m not feeling like a party tonight, are you?”

“Not really. Pass me that bottle,” Grant said, sinking into a lawn chair someone had dragged up here long before Simmons had moved in. Fitz took the lounger beside him and passed him over the Jack. 

“Why’d you come tonight?” 

Grant opened the bottle and took a drink, staring up at the cold, clear winter sky.

“I don’t know.”

Fitz nodded, taking the bottle back as Grant held it out.

“I get that. I’d probably be at home if this weren’t Simmons’ party.” 

“Why do you call her Simmons?”

“Same reason she calls me Fitz,” he answered with a shrug, “something we picked up at  uni. I don’t remember where it started. People used to think we were a single person, called Fitzsimmons, and we’d have to explain no, I’m Fitz and she’s Simmons, and it stuck, I guess.”

“I always wondered,” Grant said, trailing off as Fitz passed the bottle back. 

“Mystery solved. You know all of my secrets.”

“There’s still plenty of mystery about you.”

Fitz looked up at the sky, the stars drowned out by the city lights.

“I miss Scotland,” he said softly.

“I’ve never been. What’s it like?”

“Wild,” he answered. “Tonight, on New Year’s Eve, we have a tradition, Hogmanay, which is like New Year’s Eve on amphetamines. There’s fireworks, so much whiskey you could actually drown in it, and everyone always sings Auld Lang  Syne at the top of their lungs until they’re hoarse.”

“Sounds wild,” Grant commented.

“Beyond that, Scotland is gorgeous. Everywhere you turn, there’s mountains and lakes and the Moors. It’s amazing. I didn’t realize how much I loved it until I went to England for  uni and met Simmons, and then moved to America with her. Plus, my mum is there still.”

“Did you get to see her for the holidays?”

“No, I couldn’t get my holiday approved, so Simmons and I are heading home in a few weeks after everything settles down again.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Yeah, every day. She was what kept me going after Dad left, raising me by herself on her meager salary, keeping us above water, keeping us hopeful. There’s no one in the world like my mum.”

Grant smiled sadly, taking a second drink from the bottle before handing it over.

“What’s your family like?” Fitz asked, pausing with the bottle dangling. 

“Terrible,” Grant said. “My mom and dad were neglectful at best, my older brother was mean and manipulative, my sister was crazy, and, well, Thomas, my younger brother, was okay, but the rest of them I could leave without issue. In fact, I did. I haven’t seen them since they sent me away at 16.”

“That sucks.”

Fitz took his drink and passed the bottle, and they were quiet for a bit, just drinking and watching a singular wispy cloud pass overhead.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this, but I saw my dad a couple of years ago, when Simmons and I were in  uni. He contacted me after being gone almost a decade, and asked me to meet him for lunch.”

Fitz paused, and set the bottle down between them. Grant didn’t pick it up.

“What happened?”

“He asked me what I’d been up to, what I’d accomplished. He was always like that, only interested in what I could do, not who I was or – he used to tell me that I’d never be anything, that I’d just be average, die at a dead-end job, never amount to anything, never be extraordinary. That was really important to him, that I be  _ extraordinary _ .”

Grant made a face, and Fitz laughed, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“To my dad, I was worthless,” Fitz said. “And he left, just walked out, and when he walked back in, he hadn’t changed. He ordered too many beers, and asked about my work, and my classes, and if I had an internship lined up to get actual work experience. He didn’t like it when I came out to him, which probably wasn’t the best time, but if he was going to stick around, he was going to know the me that he left behind.”

“What’d he say to that?”

“Fags don’t go down in history for greatness, Leopold,” Fitz quoted, and almost took up the bottle to wash the words from his mouth. “He’d be really disappointed in me today, if he found out my job isn’t even in my specialty, that the company I actually fell in love with and wanted to retire from folded after only a few years in business. He’d probably throw his drink in my face when he found out that I was a Project Manager.”

He made himself laugh, and lay down on the lounger, facing the starless sky.

“Fuck what he thinks,” Grant said.

“Yeah.”

Fitz didn’t know what to say after that, and Grant didn’t break the silence to try and make him feel better. He appreciated that. Not enough people just let the silence sit, too afraid of their own thoughts.

“My parents don’t know,” Grant said, taking up the bottle again. “No one does.”

Fitz couldn’t believe his ears, and almost wanted to ask for clarification, but he didn’t want Grant to stop talking.

“What about Daisy?” he asked instead. 

“I think she suspects, but I’ve never told her. I’ve never told anyone.”

Technically, he still hadn’t, Fitz thought.

“I was always so afraid that people would treat me different, look at me different. After the way my parents treated me just for being under their roof, I couldn’t imagine ever telling them.”

God, if Grant was saying that he was gay, Fitz would go to church every Sunday and praise the Lord loudly. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever told.”

“Why me?”

“Leo,” Grant said, leaning over in his chair to catch Fitz’s eyes. 

“Grant,” he replied when nothing else came.

“I’m not good at this, I’ve never been good at this, but you’re so open about it, about everything.”

Grant Ward had to be gay, and Fitz wanted to launch himself at him to tell him everything was okay, that it was going to be okay, and to put his mouth on Grant’s everything. Except that’s not what this was. Grant hadn’t said he was attracted to Fitz, just that he was open about his gayness, which was just a statement of fact, not even admiration. At least, that’s what it seemed like. There wasn’t much else he was open about, and they’d been talking about Fitz coming out. But that didn’t necessarily mean that they were now talking about Grant coming out. Conversation was rarely linear.

“Yeah, of course, I don’t have anything to hide,” he answered.

“God, I wish it were that easy.”

Fitz sat up and Grant took a drink from the bottle. He looked gorgeous in the moonlight, and Fitz wondered what the chill in the air would taste like against his throat.

“I’ve also worked at feeling like this for years. It wasn’t easy, I wasn’t just magically this confident about it.”

Grant made a face, and set the bottle down.

“Hey!” Daisy’s voice came from behind Fitz, “what the hell?”

“We ditched the party,” Grant answered, and Fitz watched a wall go up behind his eyes. 

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I’m what the hell- ing , Grant.”

“Simmons with you?” Fitz asked.

“No, but she’s not pleased with you, either.”

“I’m certain I will survive.”

“Did you drink half the fucking bottle? Jesus.”

“It was a quarter gone when we got up here, it’s fine,” Fitz said. He went to stand, and teetered for a moment. “Oh.”

“You good?” 

Grant’s hand came out to steady him, resting on his hip. Fitz let his own hand fall and rest against Grant’s wrist for a moment, steadying them both, reminding Grant that they were still there together, even if the moment was over.

“I’m good. Head rush.”

Grant smiled at him, soft and sweet and private, and then he was standing. Good god, he was tall. Fitz hadn’t noticed until then, looking up at him. He was almost perfect height to kiss the underside of Grant’s jaw without effort. 

“Come on,” Daisy said, “it’s cold out here, and if you get a cold, I’m not hearing you bitch and whine about it, Grant.”

“I won’t,” he said, starting towards the ledge where Daisy stood on the fire escape. He turned back, looking over his shoulder. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Fitz said, as if he wouldn’t follow Grant anywhere now. 

Simmons kept Fitz in her sights, checking on him when he and Grant moved from one room to another. But the closer to midnight it came, the more drunk she became as well, so the easier it was to slip away from her. 

They moved to wherever was quieter, following the lull of the crowd, and they talked about so much. The conversation moved like the ocean, topics coming in waves, talking about what Fitz studied in college and what he wanted to do with his degrees, about how Grant had ended up going from the military academy to working at Shield Tech, about how Grant met Daisy back when she went by Skye. 

Fifteen minutes to midnight, they found themselves sitting at the kitchen table, munching on leftover crisps and dip.

“Why’d you come tonight?” Fitz asked, resolute to get an answer, an actual answer out of Grant. They were sharing one last beer, the last one from the ice bath, before Simmons inevitably shoved glasses of champagne into their hands. “Simmons has invited you before, to all kinds of things, but you decided to come tonight.”

“You were the one who invited me,” Grant said.

“What difference does that make?”

Grant shrugged, leaning back in his chair. 

“I like Jemma, she makes Daisy happy, and she’s a nice person. I just, it never interested me before. Not until you asked.”

“Why me?”

He smiled, and when he looked up at Fitz, there was a trace of shyness in his expression that Fitz had never seen before. 

“You intrigue me, you always have. Ever since you started at Shield, what, two years ago?”

“Two weeks a couple of weeks ago, yeah.”

“I’ve always wondered why you’re here, why you’re working in Project Management. You shouldn’t be in this department, none of us should be. You, Jemma, both of you should be in R&D. Daisy should be in Systems. I should be in Security -”

“No,” Fitz protested. Security was always hiring, burning through people at a rate that should be alarming  to the public, and to their employees,  if Shield didn’t cover most of the accidents. “You shouldn’t.”

“I should, it’s where I’d be most helpful. I’m certainly not going to be any use in Customer Service. May should probably be there, too, in Security. She’s incredible, you know, I’ve seen her at the gym. She’s definitely lethal. And Phil, well, Phil Coulson  _ is  _ perfect for Project Management.”

“He is,” Fitz agreed. “But Grant, you can’t go to Security. People get hurt, and disappear when they’re in Security. We’d never see you again.”

“I won’t. I’m not going to Security. I hated Project Management when I first got hired, and I still hate the work, but after Daisy, and May, and Jemma, and you, I couldn’t leave. I’m just waiting for the rest of you to go first, I guess. For you all to apply out, which you should. You should be somewhere where your talents are useful.”

“You can’t go to Security,” he repeated. 

Grant reached out and touched Fitz’s hand softly, just his fingertips against Fitz’s skin. 

“I won’t. Not until there’s no one left.”

“I’ll find a better place for you. Don’t go to Security.”

There was a rumor, a legend that went around Shield Tech, that those who went to Security were shown the deep secrets hidden below the building, and the thing that they were guarding was so horrible, some went mad looking into it. Of course, it was just a story told to scare newbies, but consider Leo Fitz warned away from Security. He did not want to know what Shield Tech had developed in its past. 

“I won’t,” Grant promised, and when he pulled away, his fingertips lingered on Fitz’s skin. 

Fitz had to remember how to breathe, which was stupid because all Grant had done was  _ touch  _ him, and not even sexually. It was a soft, platonic touch. 

“Here, toasts in two minutes,” Simmons said, wheeling past with a tray full of champagne flutes, Daisy heading in the other direction with her own. Simmons passed them both a glass and kissed Fitz quickly on the forehead. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Simmons.”

“Thank you anyway.”

He smiled at her as she flitted away.

“Toasts?” Grant asked, leaning towards Fitz.

“A Simmons tradition. She does a toast to the past year and to the new year and asks anyone who wants to do the same. She’ll undoubtedly make me do it if no one else offers, so brace yourself for that shit show.”

“Not good at public speaking?”

“I’m fine at it, but I don’t have anything to say about this year, you know. Nothing amazing happened. Nothing terrible happened. I went to work, I went home, and I did it all over again.”

Except, Fitz thought, for tonight. Tonight was something special. Tonight, he made a friend of Grant Ward. But he couldn’t say that unless he wanted Grant, and the entire party, to know that he was either in love with or deeply infatuated with him. He would have to make some bullshit up, but at least he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself.

“Well,” Grant said, lifting up his glass, “at least there’s tonight.” 

Fitz clinked his glass with Grant and replied, “yeah. There’s tonight.”

The music quieted, and Fitz looked around, finding Simmons in the living room.

“Okay! Hi! Hello everyone! Thank you all for coming!” Simmons called, Daisy helping her step up onto the coffee table. “Thank you, babe. Anyway, as I was saying, thank you for coming tonight! I hope you are having a good time! There’s still plenty of food and drink, please help yourselves. So, if you’re new here, there’s a little tradition my family had when I was growing up. On New Year’s Eve, my parents would get everyone together and we’d say what we were grateful for, or what had gone well that year, and what we were hoping for the coming year. It’s, well, it’s a lot like what Thanksgiving is used for in America, I suppose. So, I’m up here to tell you a little bit about my year, to celebrate life, and welcome the coming year.

“So, in the past year, I have moved in with my wonderful girlfriend, Daisy, who I fall more and more in love with every single day, who I hope to spend the rest of my life with. I got a promotion at work, and while this is not the field I was hoping for, it’s a step in the right direction. To go along with that, my best friend, Leo Fitz and I are close to a breakthrough on the study we’re working on. I’ve had a great year. It is a blessing that I have been granted, and I am thankful for that every single day. And I’m grateful to you, to all of you, for being here for it all. I’m glad that when Fitz and I moved here to America, we were able to find people like you all to welcome us.

“Now, as this year draws to a spectacular close, here’s to next year being bright, and loud, and just as warm as this one, and when we meet again next year, may it be in a house so I don’t have to worry about the super being called on us like last year. Here’s to friends, and family, and lovers, and drinks, and food, and promotions, and weddings. Here’s to love and knowledge and freedom and really good sex and the best things the world can offer. I hope your year is as lovely and as wonderful as you are. And if they’re not, I hope your drinks are stiff enough to get you through it.”

She lifted her glass and said, “Happy New Year, everyone!”

“Happy New Year,” the crowd replied, clinking glasses in celebration. Grant clinked his glass against Fitz’s with a smile. 

“Happy New Year, Leo,” Grant said, soft and quiet, just for him. “I’m glad I came here, so thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for finally coming,” Fitz replied. “Happy New Year.”

“And now, if anyone wants to say anything, hop on up and have a go. Fitz.”

She was looking right at him, and he stood up with a sigh.

“Hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m the best friend mentioned, Leo Fitz. Simmons and I have been friends since we were 16, awkward, achingly shy, lonely freshman in the same dorm. So, Simmons has been making me do this with her since we were 16, and I still have no idea what to say every year. This year, this year was average. Some years will be better than others, of course, and this one was okay. Nothing spectacular happened. But I also didn’t lose my job at a company I love, so I think that’s something.”

“Boo,” Simmons called from the other side of the apartment.

“I’m getting there. So impatient. But I saw my mum this year, and I kept my job, and I’m still getting better without any major backslides thanks to modern medicine and Simmons always being there to cheer me on, and I made new friends. The year wasn’t stunning, but I would still call it a success. Even when the days seem bleak and endless, I want you to know that there is always something brighter waiting for you on the other side. That’s what I want to say this New Year’s, that terrible times will pass and,  cliched as it is, you will find the sun coming out again. And if you need a hand, you’re surrounded by the best people you could ever imagine. So, cheers to that, to sunshine days, and getting better, and,” he paused to look at Grant, “new friendships.”

He raised his glass.

“And everything in between.”

Everyone clinked glasses again, and Fitz sat back down.

“Not bad,” Grant said. “To new friendships.”

He took a sip from his glass, staring at Leo as he did. 

Daisy was up on the coffee table talking about her year, but Fitz couldn’t look away from Grant. How could anyone be that beautiful? How could someone be so beautiful that they looked sculpted by an actual higher power? Not that Fitz believed in a higher power, but he could, staring at Grant. He could believe that someone purposefully made him, carefully creating every curve and angle of his face, the bright amber of his eyes, the Cupid’s bow of his lips. 

“Oh! The countdown is about to start!” Simmons called after Yo-Yo stepped down from the coffee table with Mack’s hand in hers to steady her. 

“I think this is my least favorite part,” Grant commented.

“Not a fan of group chanting?” Fitz asked.

“Feels a little too ritualistic,” he replied.

“Well, we could always escape to the fire escape.”

“I would, but Jemma is watching us very carefully still.”

Fitz looked over and found Simmons’ gaze. She looked at Grant and then back at Fitz, then back at Grant, and then back at Fitz. 

“She’s trying to tell you something,” Grant said. 

“Probably, but she’s doing a very poor job of it.”

“Ten!” someone started.

“Do you want to go see what she wants?” Grant asked.

“No. I can wait until after the countdown.”

“Nine!”

“She’s about to make out with Daisy anyway, so,” Fitz shrugged.

“That’s a fair point.”

“Eight!”

“Besides, I’m fine right here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Seven!”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“You barely know me.”

“Six!

“What I know seems pretty good.”

“Do you want to know more?”

“Five!”

“Absolutely. You’re just as intriguing to me as I am to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Four!”

Fitz reached out this time without saying a word and touched Grant’s hand resting on the table, his other holding the champagne flute off the table. Grant turned his hand and let their fingers fall together, and when he looked up, he couldn’t look away, that incredible openness in Grant’s eyes more intoxicating than anything he’d drank that night. Even more so than the punch.

“Three!”

“I’m sure.”

“Two!”

Fitz wanted to kiss him. He wanted to slide his chair up against Grant’s and take his jaw in his hands and kiss him. It didn’t have to be long, even though that was the dream. He’d settle for a quick peck, just a taste. He’d satisfy himself with a taste of what he could never have. 

He wanted to take Grant’s hands and stare in his eyes, and kiss him until they couldn’t breathe.

“One!”

The second between was excruciating. Fitz wanted to kiss him, wanted to ask him to explain exactly what he meant earlier, why he was here, did he like Fitz too, wanted to ask and not ask, wanted to put their mouths together until there was no end or beginning to either one of them.

“Happy New Year!”

Instead, Fitz leaned in and kissed Grant’s cheek. Except, Grant turned his head at the last second and caught Fitz’s mouth with his. Fitz wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or on accident, but the kiss was soft and then it was over.

“Sorry,” Fitz laughed, trying to play it off. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Grant replied, leaning back in his chair, and draining the rest of his champagne in his glass. Fitz followed suit, and set his glass down besides Grant’s. “Oh, wow, Daisy does not fuck around at New Years, huh.”

Fitz turned and found Daisy dipping Simmons in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Wow. Holy shit. I want a dip kiss like that.”

“Take me out to dinner first,” Grant said. Fitz looked up, startled and Grant grinned. “If you want, of course.”

“Grant Ward, are you  _ flirting _ with me?”

“I’ve certainly been trying to all night, thank you for noticing.”

“We’re going to have to work on that,” Fitz laughed, reaching out and lacing their fingers together. “Come dance with me, Grant, for the hell you’ve put me through tonight.”

“I’m sorry,” Grant said.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Fitz echoed, standing and walking towards the living room. “Come on. Dance with me. It’s not a dip kiss, but it’s a start.”

* * *

When the party dwindled down to drunken dregs, Grant looped his arm around Fitz’s waist, and walked him to the subway.

“Are you going to be fine making it home?” Grant asked. “You should have stayed away from the punch.”

“I’ll be fine. Unless you want to come home with me.”

“Not when you’re plastered,” Grant said. “Buy me dinner first, Fitz.”

“Yeah. Dinner. Do you like Italian or Chinese?”

“Surprise me.”

“For the rest of your life, Grant Ward,” Fitz promised. 

“I can’t wait,” Grant replied, and he brushed his lips over Fitz’s temple. “Come on, I’m going to get on the train with you, just to make sure you get home safe.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do. You’re in no state to get home alone.”

Fitz sighed.

“Okay. Well. You’re a good man, Grant Ward.”

“You don’t have to call me by my full name.”

“I do. Besides, what’s your middle name? I don’t know that.”

“Douglas.”

“I like it. What a good name. Grant Douglas Ward.”

“That’s me.”

“I like it,” Fitz repeated.

“You said that.”

“And I meant it.”

“I know, Leo,” Grant said, voice fond instead of exasperated. “Is this your train?”

“No.”

“You’ve said that for every train.”

“I don’t want to leave this night. Leaving this station means that the night is over, and you go home, and I’m afraid that this will be over forever.”

“It won’t.”

“Promise.”

“I promise. You owe me a dinner.”

“It’s my train.”

“Okay, come on, we still have a 30-minute ride together and I’m walking you all the way to your door,” Grant said. “Don’t mourn tonight until it’s over.”

“It’s hard to believe,” Fitz said, and then he yawned, the high of the punch leaving him. “It’s hard to believe that this is real. I’ve liked you since I first saw you, Grant Douglas Ward. It’s been a really long two years.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dangerous thing being openly gay in this world.”

“I wouldn’t have hurt you,” he replied, and there was offense and hurt in his voice. Fitz shook his head.

“No, not you. Not like that. But it would have changed things, changed us, changed everything. We didn’t even talk, and I was afraid that it would change us anyway.”

“Yeah,” Grant agreed. “I get that.”

There was a long quiet moment, and Fitz’s mouth did not like quiet, especially after a few drinks.

“Hey, you haven’t said it out loud.”

“What? I like you too.”

“No - that’s nice to hear though, thank you.”

“You want to hear me say what?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. I know it anyway.”

Fitz leaned his head into Grant’s shoulder, and the train whooshed by, ruffling their hair as it came to a stop. 

“What do you want me to say, Leo? That I like you? That I want to take you out to dinner? That I’ve thought about that for just as long as you have, but have been terrified to say anything?”

“I mean, yes.”

They stepped onto the train and found their seats. It was surprisingly empty, only a few stragglers slumped in seats, despite it being New Years.

“But earlier, you said you hadn’t told anyone, until me.”

“Oh. That. I was – I can’t - I’m - fuck. I’m sorry. I know what you want me to say, but I can’t.”

Fitz took his hand, and rested his lips on Grant’s shoulder like a lingering kiss. It wasn’t worth Grant being uncomfortable, stumbling over his words. 

“That’s okay. You’ll get there and I’ll be here when you do.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Fitz rested his head on Grant’s shoulder, and breathed slowly, steadying.

“Hey, which is your stop?”

“Thompson Ave.”

“Noted.”

“You’re really warm,” Fitz muttered.

“Yeah, and I’m a great  cuddler .”

“God, I can’t wait to experience that. Right after the dip kiss. And dinner. There’s a list. I’m building a list. What else should be on the list?”

“I can think of a couple.”

“Are they dirty?”

“They are.”

“Good. We need some dirty bullet points.”

“As long as you surprise me with some.”

“Oh, baby, you’ll be surprised by what I can do,” Fitz said, stopping to yawn halfway through. 

“Sexy,” Grant laughed. 

“Epi - epi – fuck. What the fuck is the word? Emit, no, epi pen, not, epinephrine, no.”

“Epitome?”

“That’s the bitch,” Fitz grumbled, his cheeks burning as he looked down at his hands, embarrassed. It had been a while since he’d lost a word like that. He could hide shaking hands, fumbling, stumbling, all of that could be covered and played off as simple clumsiness. He missed the grace he used to hold his tools with, but he could make up for that. But you couldn’t hide language fumbles like that. At least he could blame it on the punch if he wanted. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the thing about Grant, he was discovering. He wanted to be honest with Grant. 

“Sorry. That happens sometimes.”

“That’s okay, happens to all of us.”

“Yeah,” Fitz said, “but it happens a lot to me because of what happened to me.”

“Is that the comment about getting better you made earlier?”

“It is. I never know how to tell anyone this. It’s not something I like about me. And I don’t want to scare you off with my broken pieces already.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. I can wait.”

“No, it’s okay,” Fitz said, sitting up. He was so tired and he wanted to stay tucked into Grant’s side, but he sat up anyway. “Probably better you find out now before you decide to get attached.”

“Too late for that,” Grant said.

“So, I have a brain injury. It makes it hard to remember words, which is aphasia, and motor deficit, meaning I can’t really hold small tools and make them work, not without frustration and – anyway, I’m still trying to get better. It’s been hard.  Somedays are worse than others, but I’ve been doing well recently. I haven’t had any slips or backslides. It’s taken a lot of work and treatments and therapy, but I’m getting there.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s not a happy story.”

“I can handle it.”

“Okay. Well, right after Simmons and I moved here, she was getting her PhDs, and I had started at Cyber Secure, I went out on a date with this guy. He was nice, and I’d had a good time with him, and I’d walked him to the subway to see him off. We kissed on the platform as his train pulled in, and I was going to see him again, go on another date. Some guys apparently saw us kissing and took extreme offense to that, so when I got on my train, they followed. When I got off my train, they followed. I didn’t think anything of it, we live in a city, it wasn’t uncommon that people got on and off of the same train. But they were following me by the river and talking and gaining on me and no one was around. I decided to cut through the park on Riverside, and they fucking jumped me. Worse thing was, they didn’t even beat me the way you expect when you’re getting followed. They kicked me down, bashed my head off the ground to knock me out, bound my hands, and threw me in the river.”

“Holy shit,” Grant breathed out.

“Do you know Mack?”

“Yeah, Daisy’s mentioned him.”

“So, the reason we know Mack is that he saw them throw me in, and he dove in after me, but by the time he got me to the surface and then to shore, I had drowned and wasn’t getting any oxygen to my brain. But he resuscitated me and called 911 and demanded he ride in the ambulance with me to the hospital. He’s been supporting me and helping me get better ever since, at my side, taking me to therapy, making sure I’m actually trying my physical therapy. He’s, Mack’s a good guy. Calls me Turbo. Only person in the world allowed to give me a horrendous nickname like that.”

“I’m glad you survived,” Grant said.

“Yeah, me too.”

“And if anyone ever touches you again, I will absolutely destroy them.”

“I like having a big strong protector like you.”

“That’s why I’m walking you right to your door tonight, and every night.”

“And you’ll kiss me goodnight?”

“Every night.”

“I can’t wait.”

* * *

And that is exactly what Grant Ward did. Their first date, which was a disaster in every way except that they were with each other, ended with Grant walking him to his door, and kissing him breathless against it. Their second, a couple days later, ended with Grant walking him to his door, and then Fitz dragging Grant inside the apartment, unable to keep his hands to himself any longer. 

“Leo,” Grant breathed into their kisses, pushing the jacket from Leo’s shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, already forgotten. “Where’s your room?”

“This way,” Fitz said, walking them towards his bedroom. He had a small one-bedroom apartment. “Watch out for the cat.”

“You have a cat.”

“Yeah,” he said just as a black cat meowed from the back of his couch. He reached out and scratched under his chin. “That’s Faraday.”

“Faraday,” Grant echoed, reaching his own hand out and Faraday, a rescue that just wanted love and attention, bumped his head into Grant’s hand. “Cute.”

“Yeah, don’t step on him. Come with me.”

Fitz wrapped his hand around Grant’s wrist and tugged him towards the bedroom.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Yeah, wasn’t on purpose.”

“The cat, or me not knowing?”

“The cat . Or, well, both .”

“How do you accidentally get a cat?”

“You can blame Simmons for that.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, strangely.”

“Do you want to hear the story of how Simmons accidentally acquired a shelter cat and the cat ended up in my apartment permanently , or do you want me to take off my clothes?”

“Take off your clothes,” Grant decided. 

“Good.”

They shut the bedroom door behind them, locking Faraday on the other side of the apartment. 

Grant was hot, attractive but also his body was warm wherever Fitz got his hands. And he couldn’t keep his hands in one spot, running over Grant’s arms, and then his chest, down his shoulders, over his back. Every part of him was firm, his skin smooth except - 

“What’s this?” Fitz asked, pulling away from where he was kissing down Grant’s sternum. He stroked over the scar just below Grant’s ribs, about two inches long. 

“Got into the wrong fight,” Grant answered. 

“They’re going to go to hell for scarring this perfect body,” Fitz said.

“There’s more,” Grant replied, taking Fitz’s hand and guiding his fingers over a jagged scar at Grant’s hip, and then he turned his arm to show a long line of small scars on the inside of his bicep. “Long life of being a punching bag.”

“I won’t,” Fitz said softly, words tangling on his tongue for a moment. He took a breath and let the words settle. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know. Come touch me, Leo,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor. “I’ll show you all of my scars. I’ll show you everything.”

Fitz brought Grant’s arm up to his mouth, and kissed the series of scars. 

“Lay on your back, love, take off your pants.”

“I’m not wearing any.”

“Your underwear, then. I forget. They’re called pants at home.”

“Get naked.”

“Yes. Please.”

Grant stepped away while he finally,  _ finally _ removed his boxer briefs, leaving his body bare. Fitz took his time undressing himself, watching the lines of Grant’s body in the streetlights through the windows. He moved over to the bedside to flick on the lamp, and then draw the curtains. He didn’t need anyone to know what debauched things he was going to do to Grant Ward, and let Grant do to him in return. 

“Come here,” Grant said, just enough command in his voice to send a shiver down his spine. “Stop teasing me.”

Fitz dropped his own underwear and climbed up onto the bed, leaning over Grant, kissing up his chest. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Fitz said into his skin. “I could stay here forever.”

“This  _ is _ your house,” Grant quipped, his voice breathy. “You can.”

“Shush.”

Fitz took his time kissing over Grant’s chest, and up to his mouth, drawing soft moans from him as he went. 

“It’s been a while since I brought anyone back to mine,” Fitz said, trying for calmly but his hard cock dragged on Grant’s and  he was left breathless for a moment.

“As in, you haven’t had sex in a while, or you haven’t fucked anyone in this bed?”

“Yes.”

Grant laughed, and his own hands traced up Fitz’s sides. 

“I’ll be very gentle, I promise.”

“And if I don’t want you to be gentle?” Fitz asked.

“Then I’ll be anything you want.”

Grant’s kisses were hot as he pulled Fitz flush against him, and then flipped them over onto Fitz’s back. He went easily, happy to let Grant take over. There were certainly times when Fitz liked to be in control, be on top, watch his lover come apart underneath him, but right then, Grant, hot and naked, on top of him, Fitz wanted nothing more than to let Grant touch him all over and fill him however he pleased. He wanted to give Grant everything, so he relaxed into Grant’s touch and let out a satisfied groan which he tried to quiet by biting his lower lip.

“God, I love the noises that you make,” Grant said, mouth moving along his neck and to his collarbone. “Don’t hide them from me.”

“Make me,” Fitz whimpered out as Grant shifted on top of him. 

“Gladly.”

Grant slid his hand down Fitz’s chest, and took hold of the head of Fitz’s hard, aching cock lightly, barely any pressure. His skin was a whisper against Fitz, teasing just enough to make Fitz's hips jerk up without his consent.

“Tell me ,” Grant murmured into his skin. 

“That you’re being a tease, a literal cock tease right now?” Fitz challenged.

Grant took his hand away and bit the sensitive lobe of Fitz's ear as punishment.

“Tell me what you want,” Grant tried again. “Use your words, baby.”

“I want you to actually jerk me off. I want you to wrap your hand around my cock and stroke me.”

“Like this?” Grant asked, and wrapped his hand firmly around Fitz’s cock, stroking him slowly. “Is this what you want, Leo?”

“ _ Grant _ ,” Fitz groaned. 

“Tell me what you want, exactly how you want it.”

Fitz reached down and wrapped his hand around Grant’s and kissed Grant while they worked their hands up and down his length. 

“Does that tell you?” Fitz asked.

“It does. Does that feel good?”

“It really does. It feels  _ so _ good.”

Fitz kissed what he could along Grant’s neck and chest. Grant would have kept up the pace without Fitz’s hand, he was sure, but he couldn’t let go. Grant shifted his grip, sliding their fingers together and he kissed Fitz slowly.

“Do you want to come, Leo?”

Grant said it low in his ear, twisting his hand around the tip of his cock slowly, teasingly. 

“Yes, Grant. Please.”

“Can I tell you what I want, then?”

Fitz nodded frantically, his hips jerking out of his control. 

“I want you to come in my mouth,” Grant muttered, scraping his teeth over Fitz’s collarbone. “I want to put your beautiful cock in my mouth, and suck you until you come down my throat.”

Fitz whined, and nodded frantically.

“Please. God, yes.  _ Yes _ .”

Grant took his hand off Fitz’s cock, and Fitz tried not to whine, knowing that Grant was going to suck him off if he was patient. It was getting extremely difficult to be patient. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Grant whispered into his skin and he shifted down Fitz’s chest, small kisses leading the way. “I do have to say, I haven’t done this in a while, so bear with me while I –”

“Love, you could just breathe on my cock and I’d enjoy it at this point.”

“I’ll try to be better than just breathing.”

“I trust you.”

Grant laughed, and took Fitz’s cock in his hand again. They caught each other’s gaze, and Grant took his cock into his mouth. Fitz whined, high in the back of his throat, and it took all of his strength and self-control not to let his hips jack upwards. Especially, and this was the most unfair thing Fitz had ever seen, as Grant’s eyes fluttered closed, enjoying it himself. 

“Fuck,  _ Jesus _ ,” he muttered. Grant’s free hand not stroking what wasn’t in his mouth came up to find Fitz’s hand and laced their fingers together. It was so soft and intimate, the way Grant’s hand held his while his tongue did wicked things around the tip of his cock. He looked gorgeous with his mouth stretched around him, and Fitz could die in this moment, content with how his life turned out. “You’re unreal. This isn’t real. I don’t deserve this.”

Grant squeezed his hand, and took the rest of his length in so he was enveloped in silky, wet warmth. 

He couldn’t stop the obscene moan that flowed out of him. 

To encourage him, Grant began to bob his head in time with his own strokes, and he moved Fitz’s hand into his hair to hold onto. His hair was soft and thick, sliding between Fitz’s fingers easily. Fitz couldn’t do anything but hold on, even if that wasn’t what Grant had intended, his body moving entirely on its own will. 

“Fuck, baby, god, that’s so good.”

He couldn’t control what his mouth did, sliding easily into begging. Grant’s free hand had to hold Fitz’s hips down as they decided they wanted to lift off the bed towards the slick heat of Grant’s mouth. 

When he came, he lost all sense of time, and self.

All that mattered was Grant, and the way his eyes were watching Fitz, and his mouth stretched around his cock. The orgasm was bright, and hot, and endless, and perfect. Grant swallowed down his cum easily and almost hungrily, pulling off as he sucked Fitz clean. There was a self-satisfied look on his face that Fitz wanted to drown in, but was too busy learning to breathe again.

“Holy shit,” Fitz muttered, sliding his hand to hold Grant’s jaw for a moment, just looking at this beautiful man. “That was amazing.”

Grant kissed his way back up Fitz’s chest, slow and intentional. 

“You are so goddamn hot,” he murmured into Fitz’s collarbone. “I could watch you all day, the way you can’t keep still because it feels so good, and the way your voice sounds.”

Fitz, practically boneless still, caught Grant’s neck and dragged him in for a kiss. He wanted to feel Grant’s body pressed along him, the weight and warmth of him as close as possible, and Grant seemed eager to provide, sinking onto Fitz as Fitz slipped his tongue into Grant’s mouth to chase the taste of himself on Grant’s tongue. 

“It’s probably weird to say thank you, but holy shit, thank you,” Fitz muttered, breaking the kiss to run small kisses along Grant’s jaw and cheek, following the edge of his beard. 

“You are absolutely welcome,” Grant replied, stroking down Fitz’s side slowly, just fingertips against his skin.

“If that’s what it’s like when you’re out of practice, I’m absolutely screwed.”

Grant grinned into Fitz’s neck, kissing his pulse point there. 

“Did I mention that you’re beautiful today?” Fitz asked, shaking hand pressing into Grant’s shoulder to steady himself. There were sometimes where he couldn’t do anything because of his hands, let alone masturbate, so he really hoped this wasn’t one of those times. 

Grant, though, shifted and took Fitz’s tremoring hand in his own and brought it up to his mouth to kiss him palm.

“Relax,” he murmured into the skin. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

Fitz curled his fingers as best he could over Grant’s, even as they tremored.

“Sorry.”

Grant kissed him again, softer, sweeter, with all the tenderness in the world.

“You’re okay. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Fitz had accidentally dumped hot coffee onto Grant during their first date thanks to his hands  spasming , anxiety or nerves always making his tremors worse. It hadn’t scared him away yet. 

“I’ll take care of you,” Grant repeated, shifting off of Fitz. “If you want me to.”

“I do, I really do. Let me,” he said and wiggled out from under Grant to reach out and rifle through his bedside drawers. “Fuck, where’d it go?”

Grant shifted and left kisses down Fitz’s side and back, wherever he could get his mouth. He paused at his shoulder blade, fingers coming up to touch the scar at the base of Fitz’s neck.

“What’s this?”

“That’s from where I hit rocks at the bottom of the river,” Fitz said softly, fingers finally closing around the bottle of lube he’d been searching for. 

Grant kissed the scar gently.

It was the softest thing, just a brush of lips against the raised scar tissue. It was a jagged thing, and it ached whenever it rained, the rock having chipped the bone beneath it, but Fitz took it for what it was, a mark of his survival. You didn’t get scars if you didn’t survive, and he wasn’t ashamed of it the way he used to be. 

“What about this one?” Grant asked, fingers finding another scar along Fitz’s back, this one lower near his hip. 

“That was from a mishap in the lab at  uni. Something exploded, and a shard of shrapnel went into my back.”

Grant hummed. 

“Simmons was furious,” Fitz continued, “kept yelling at me for a month about being unsafe in the lab, and how I could have died, and I need to be more careful.”

“You do,” Grant agreed. 

“Don’t side with Simmons.”

“I’m not. I’m siding with you.”

“How’s that possible?”

“If anything happened to you,” he said, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

Fitz turned onto his back and brought Grant’s face up level so he could kiss him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere now. Not after that stunning display of skill you just pulled. No, no, you’re mine now.”

Grant grinned at him.

“Now, get your goddamn fingers inside of me before I explode.”

His laugh was so good, and so honest, and so  _ rare _ . 

“My pleasure.”

Fitz watched Grant carefully, watching as he busied himself with the lube, slicking his fingers. He wondered idly when Grant became so comfortable with sex with men, especially if he didn’t have experience with men. Maybe Grant had had a lot of experience fingering himself. Fitz couldn’t help whimpering at that thought, what it might be like to watch Grant pleasure himself, opening his hole slowly for Fitz to watch. He’d certainly propose that later, if Grant was up to it. 

Unintentionally, he let out a gasp as Grant rubbed lube against him without warning.

“Sorry,” Grant laughed, drawing his fingers away.

“No, no, don’t stop.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss Fitz. “I’m not going to stop.”

He slowly sank his finger into Fitz, kissing him as if to distract him. Not that Fitz needed to be distracted, but he appreciated it anyway. He would never say no to Grant kissing him. 

“I’m not fragile,” Fitz said, “I won’t break if you go faster.”

“Maybe I want to make this last,” Grant said.

“The only way to make it last is to get started.”

In response, Grant pressed two fingers in, thick and steady, and kissed the middle of Fitz’s chest. 

“Better?”

“Getting there . ”

He flexed and stretched his fingers, working Fitz open before sliding in a third. The stretch was good, familiar, and welcome, but Grant was just ghosting over Fitz’s prostate as he worked.

“Do me a favor. Turn your fingers a little to the left,” Fitz instructed. Grant twisted as he’d been told, and Fitz laughed. “Sorry, my left, your right.”

He fixed the angle, and Fitz curled into his fingers just right.

“Fuck,” he moaned, a spark of pleasure lighting bright through him again.

“Oh,  _ I see _ ,” Grant said. “Does that feel good, baby?”

He intentionally stroked his fingers against the spot again now that he knew what he was doing. Fitz had started to realize that Grant was a fast learner, whether he’d had prior experience or not. 

“God, you’re beautiful, look at you,” he said, and Fitz wasn’t sure he was even talking to him at that moment, or just talking to talk. 

Fitz ran his hands up Grant’s arms and over his shoulders, through his hair, dragging him back down for a kiss, then releasing him to continue mapping out the lean lines of his body. If Grant would let him, Fitz would spend all night memorizing exactly how his body felt beneath his hands, learning after dip and curve, every hard line and scar. There’d be time for that. He wasn’t going to be letting Grant go anytime soon, not without a fight, not unless Grant himself sent him away.

“Grant,” Fitz groaned as another brush sent sparks up his spine. “Fuck, please. Just fuck me already.”

Grant had to catch his breath, fingers mercifully and frustratingly stalling for a moment, before he drew his fingers out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely, I am sure. I absolutely want you to fuck me, Grant.”

Grant leaned down and caught his mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. Fitz was powerless against it, holding onto him to try and stay afloat and not lose himself in the kiss. He could still taste his own cum on Grant’s tongue, the salt lingering, and he chased that flavor. 

Fitz didn’t need to be distracted, but he was distractible, of course. 

Grant moved him into place, hiking his thighs up over his hips, hands warm against his skin. He barely noticed Grant brushing against him until the tip of his cock appeared at his entrance, and Grant said, “okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, please.”

Grant kissed the pulse point at his throat and murmured, “I didn’t think I’d like hearing you beg, but apparently I do.”

“Please,” Fitz said, and his voice genuinely dipped as he said it. “Grant, please.”

There was a quiet, pleased noise in the back of Grant’s throat. Fitz wanted to do whatever he could to hear that sound as often as possible. 

Then, Grant shifted and pressed into him. He had to remember how to breathe again, not because it hurt, he was used to that stretch, but it suddenly became very real that he was going to have sex with Grant Ward, that Grant Ward had wrapped his mouth around his cock and let him come in his mouth, and had stretched him open on his fingers. For two years, he’d tamped down unprompted fantasies about what he’d let Grant do to him, and now they were here, and Fitz couldn’t believe it. He ran his hands along Grant’s arms, feeling the solid muscle below his touch. 

He took Fitz slowly, leaning in and kissing him, while his hand slipped from the back of his thigh to his cock, stroking him again, as if his cock wasn’t already getting the memo. It was a lot of sensations at once, and Fitz couldn’t stop the moan into Grant’s mouth even if he wanted to. 

“God, you feel fucking amazing,” Grant muttered, dragging kisses across his skin. “Holy shit.”

“If you want to try moving, you can,” Fitz said, tracing down Grant’s arms lightly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not fragile.”

Grant looked unsure, though, and Fitz pulled him in for a kiss.

“Probably should have asked this before, but have you ever had sex with a man, Grant?”

“Yeah, there was someone, but it wasn’t – I was never on top.”

“Okay,” Fitz said softly, “well, come down here.”

He laid back and pulled Grant with him.

“Hi,” Grant said, and Fitz smiled at him. 

“Hi. I’ll tell you if something doesn’t feel good, okay? But relax, and just, honestly? Just enjoy it, enjoy me,” Fitz said. Grant let out a breath, and kissed him first this time. When he moved, he moved with intention, pulling out and sinking back into Fitz deeper. “Fuck, yeah.”

“Good?”

“So good,” Fitz sighed. He let Grant figure out the pace and angle, feeling Grant’s eyes watch him as he moaned openly. He was a quick learner, and once he figured out exactly how to make Fitz whine and moan and curse, he was more than willing to repeat it until he was breathless and begging. Of course, it didn’t take long, Fitz had already come once, and Grant was blisteringly hot and kissed like some kind of Greek god. 

His strokes were long, and patient, fucking into Fitz with a precision that he adored in Grant already. How could he not? Grant touched him like he mattered, like his scars didn’t, like the fumbles on his tongue weren’t annoying. Grant looked at him, and never seemed annoyed, even when Fitz was with himself. 

“Fuck, I’m so close again,” he mumbled.

“Come for me, then,” Grant said. “Come for me, baby.”

Fitz almost told him to make him, except that Grant intentionally thrust into Fitz’s prostate and twisted his hand around the head of Fitz’s cock so beautifully and he had no choice. The orgasm was bright, and hot, and he clung to Grant desperately, trying to keep himself from floating away on it. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, throwing his head back, Grant moving in to kiss along his exposed throat, moaning quietly into his skin. His hips couldn’t figure out what he wanted, jerking into Grant’s thrusts, eager to keep riding this high, eager to help Grant join him. “ _ Fuck _ , Grant.” 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Fitz,” Grant groaned. 

“Yeah,” was all he could say, lingering in the state of bliss every time Grant pumped into him. When he came down, he smiled at Grant, who drew out of him slowly. Fitz shifted as Grant stroked himself desperately. “Come here.”

Fitz pulled Grant into him and then rolled them so Grant was lying flat on his back. 

“Let me,” he said, and kissed down Grant’s chest, enamored with the firm muscles in his abdomen. He eagerly wrapped his hand around the length of his cock, setting an easy pace. He caught Grant’s eyes and keeping his gaze, took his cock eagerly in his mouth. 

“Holy shit,” Grant breathed. 

Fitz wasn’t shy about sex, not after what he’d gone through because of someone else’s opinions on the way he had sex. Mack always said that he’d sleep with anything that moved, which wasn’t true but also wasn’t untrue. He just wasn’t ashamed of it, which meant, he’d had quite a bit of practice. He knew exactly what to do with a cock in his mouth, what to do with his tongue, and his hand, to drive his partner crazy. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with Grant hard and aching beneath him like this, but considering Grant had made him come not once but twice without ever complaining, Fitz figured he shouldn’t take his time. He made sure to give Grant exactly what he wanted, complying when he begged for more, voice breaking. 

“Fuck,  _ Leo _ ,” he groaned, and that was all the warning he got before Grant came, body going stiff. Fitz swallowed down what he could of his cum. In all of his years of sucking dick, he hadn’t mastered swallowing yet, but he was determined. He had to pull off, letting the last stripes of cum hit his tongue and chin haphazardly.  Grant, settling into the mattress, looked down at him finally and groaned. “You’re fucking obscene, Leo. Come up here.”

Fitz kissed his way up Grant’s chest, leaving a small trail of cum along his skin, and finally settled against Grant, kissing him slowly. 

“Good?” Fitz asked.

“More than good, fucking excellent.”

“Mmmm, good,” Fitz said. “You staying the night?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Can’t have sleepy morning sex if you leave.”

“You make a fair point.”

“I’ve been known to make some sense now and again,” he replied. “Mmm, let me get the blanket from under you, I’m cold.”

They shuffled around until Fitz had managed to pull the comforter up and around them, resting against Grant. He sighed happily, and closed his eyes.

Then, Faraday meowed at the door to be let in.

“ Ahh ,” Fitz said. “Right on schedule.”

He moved to get up.

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

“No.”

“Okay, good,” and he walked across the room and let Faraday in. He headed straight for the bed and leapt up beside Grant. “He’s a bit of an attention whore, always wants cuddles and love.”

Faraday tapped Grant’s chest carefully, and then, satisfied with whatever he was testing, stepped up onto him, sitting down right in the middle. 

“He’s very cute.”

“Oh, he’s gorgeous,” Fitz said, leaving the door open a crack for when Faraday wanted to leave later in the night. No door was allowed to be closed, Fitz had discovered that early in their companionship, and he was surprised that he was allowed to get through two orgasms before Faraday came calling to be let in. 

“How’d you end up with him?”

“Simmons went to the shelter a couple weeks before she started dating Daisy,” Fitz said. “She wasn’t looking for a cat, actually, but she saw Faraday in the cat room, this little black cat with a crooked tail, and when she went to see him, he climbed all over her, and she fell in love. So, she brought home this guy. But her landlord found out, and you know Daisy.”

“Daisy’s allergic to cats.”

“Bingo. She didn’t want to return the cat to the shelter, because he doesn’t belong there, and he came to stay with me instead. He loves Simmons more than anything still though. I’ll have to invite you both over so you can see how he reacts.”

“What does he do?”

“He climbs all over her, and cries if she stops petting him. Luckily she’s over enough that he doesn’t cry when she leaves anymore.”

Faraday curled up into a loaf on Grant’s chest. Fitz climbed back into bed and met Faraday’s eyes. 

“Do you like him more than me now?” he asked the cat.

“No,” Grant replied.

“I was talking to him,” Fitz said, nodding to Faraday who made sleepy eye blinks at him. “Do you like him more, Faraday?”

He stared at Fitz, and Fitz stared back. Faraday yawned and set his head on Grant’s chest.

“Yeah, I get that. Me too, bud.”

Grant grinned and shifted so as Fitz lay down, he was cuddled underneath Grant’s arm, Faraday purring softly, content. 


	2. Chapter 2

He and Grant somehow just worked.  Fitz will never be sure how that was, how they came from entirely different places and histories, but still somehow fit this well. He supposed to same could be said about Daisy and Simmons, puzzle pieces from different pictures that fit together perfectly. 

Even when life tested them, they still somehow worked.

“Hey,” Fitz leaned over their desk, putting his fingers on the back of Grant’s hand on his mouse. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Simmons and I are heading on vacation next week,” he said. 

“Which will be an extremely long week without you,” Grant answered.

“Truly, however, it’s going to be even longer for Faraday.”

“You’re asking me to watch your cat.”

“Yes.”

“Wow, must be love,” Grant said with a teasing smile.

“Hey, you act like I didn’t catch you cuddling Faraday last week,” Fitz said. “You like that cat just as much as you like me.”

“Not in the same way.”

“God, I hope not.”

“I’ll look after him.”

Fitz leaned back in his chair, satisfied with that item finally getting checked off the list. International travel was honestly the worst thing they did as humans. Crossing the oceans, terrible idea, especially when you add government safety procedures to that list. Fitz wanted to go home, see his family and his country again, but fuck, the actual act of getting there was a pain in the ass. And it was expensive.

“It is going to be a very long lonely week without you,” Fitz lamented, “but plus side that you might enjoy is that Simmons says my accent always gets thicker after a visit home.”

There was an interested quirk to his eyebrow. 

“Does it?” Grant tried to say, playing it off as cool as he could, but Fitz had heard the hitch to his breath before and grinned at him. 

Fitz grinned.

“I’ll come over once we land, how does that sound?”

“Sounds good,” Grant said, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, and said more confidently, “sounds good.”

* * *

It was supposed to be a vacation, a week of visiting his mum and then returning to his life in America, to his boyfriend, to his accidental cat. Except his mum was sick when he got there, and laid in bed while Fitz looked after her for half of the week. 

“You don’t have to take care of me, Leopold,” she muttered, but let him smooth back her wild curls and fuss over her. 

“I do, you’re my mum,” he said. 

“You’re a good boy but this is your vacation.”

“And I’m going to spend it taking care of you.”

She’d relaxed into her pillows and fallen asleep, her cat Templeton falling asleep on the back of the couch right alongside her. Fitz cooked her dinner, and made her tea, and cleaned the house, and did the little touch-ups around the house he always did to make his mum’s life easier. He sent Grant messages when he could, of his little home just outside of  Glasgow , of his mum asleep with Templeton asleep on her chest,  of the absolutely disaster that was his mum’s computer set up. Grant set him back pictures of Faraday asleep in his lap, a shirtless post-work out selfie where he was deliciously glistening with sweat, and Daisy’s mournful pout at their usual after-work sports bar table. It was nice to have someone to reach out to who cared how his vacation was going. 

Three days before he was due to fly back to America, he found himself lying beside his mum, temperature burning, chest aching, and body exhausted. 

“Oh, no,” Simmons whined when he called her, his voice nearly gone but there enough to video chat with her. “You look dreadful, Fitz.”

“Thanks,” he croaked out. “I feel it.”

“Are you going to be okay to fly?”

“I don’t think so. I can barely breathe. ”

“Oh, no,” she repeated.

“Sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t be sorry for anything. You just get some rest and I’ll see you when you get home.”

“ Love you,” he said. 

“Love you, too.”

She hung up and Fitz, the most awake he’d been in two days, called Grant who was at work but answered anyway.

“Hey,”  Grant picked up, his eyebrows furrowing in the video. “Everything okay?”

“Not great, actually,” Fitz managed and then had to lean away from the phone to cough. His entire body hurt in a way he hadn’t felt in years.  “Sorry.”

His mum came by and replaced the  cool damp towel on his forehead.

“Is that the boyfriend?” she asked and he nodded. She  leaned down so she could see Grant on the screen and  then, in Gaelic, said, “he’s quite handsome, dove.”

“ He is,” Fitz agreed in Gaelic.

“ I’ll let you talk in private, then.”

She  left them alone like Fitz was going to start asking Grant to strip or something, but he rolled his eyes fondly at her anyway. It was nice to be with his mum regardless.

“ You speak another language,” Grant stated.

“I do. I speak Scottish Gaelic.”

Grant smiled and looked over his shoulder at what Fitz could make out as Coulson.

“I actually need to speak with Coulson really quick,” Fitz said, shifting to sit and regretting it. “Oh, fuck, that was a bad idea.”

“Are you okay?” Grant asked, waving Coulson over. “What happened?”

“I caught whatever Mum had,” he answered, and leaned away again to cough, his entire body tensing to keep him from fainting. “ Which,  I should have seen coming. It’s not like I did anything to prevent this.”

Grant laughed and Coulson stepped up into frame with him.

“Oh, Fitz! Hello! You look terrible,”  Coulson greeted.

“Yeah, to be fair, I feel just as bad as I look. And I’m not going to be able to fly home this weekend. My mum was sick for a week and a half, and this is day three of whatever she had.”

“Oh, boy. I will put you in for another week of vacation, then. If you get better and are coming home sooner, let me know, but you just rest and get back to us when you can, Fitz.”

“Thanks, Coulson,” Fitz  croaked and had to take a moment to breathe again as Coulson stepped out of frame. “Do I really look that bad?”

“You’re really pale,” Grant said, “and look like you haven’t slept in days. But you’re still gorgeous.”

Fitz laughed, which hurt but it was good. 

“You don’t have to flatter me when I look like a corpse. Especially when we’re not together for you to get anything out of it. ”

“I  get something out of it. I get to see you smile, which is important to me.”

Fitz smiled and then covered his mouth when he realized, catching Grant’s smug  gaze.

“ Shut up,” he said with an eye roll.

“ Did you just call to get to Coulson?”

“No, I wanted to let you know I’m not coming back this weekend, so you’re going to have to watch Faraday a little while longer. And we won’t see each other for another week.”

“I think I can manage,” Grant said.

“I miss you,” Fitz said softly, voice going at the end. 

“I miss you, too. I wish you were here so I could at least take care of you, but with your mom is the next best place for you.”

Fitz smiled at him. 

“She’d like you.”

“You think so?”

Fitz nodded, and shifted again. 

“You can talk to her if you want,” Fitz said.

“I don’t know,” Grant said, but Fitz tipped his head to the side as if to call out to his mum who was in the kitchen of their little home. This would always be home to Fitz, no matter where he settled down. “What are you doing? Leopold, don’t.”

Fitz grinned.

“I won’t. But she would like you. That I’m sure of.”

“I’m glad,” Grant said. 

* * *

When he got back to America, healthy and finally home, Grant picked him up from the airport, and they fucked in his car in the parking lot. It was hard to keep their hands to themselves.

“We should go on another date,” Fitz said, straddled on Grant’s lap on his couch. Faraday was watching them from the back of couch, unamused. “Instead of just fucking.”

“You don’t like fucking me?” Grant asked, teasing as he kissed over Fitz’s neck and rucking up his shirt. 

“I did not say that,” Fitz said, grinding his hips down into Grant’s. “I just think we need to balance our work and play.”

“Work being dates?”

“Not a perfect metaphor.”

“So, you want to take me on a date because you think we fuck too much?”

“You stop being difficult. I just want to dress you up nice and show you off, take you out to dinner, make everyone super jealous because I have the hottest boyfriend in the world.”

“Mmm, you’ll find that I have the hottest boyfriend in the world.”

“Grant,” Fitz said. “Do you want to go on date with me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Good. It would be really awkward if we were dating and you didn’t,” Fitz said, ducking into him and kissing him. “I was thinking a nice dinner at that sports bar you like while the game is on, and we could have a couple drinks, come back here, or your place, have a nice long night of, well, I’m sure you can imagine exactly what we could get up to.”

“The same exact thing we could do right now?” Grant asked, teasing.

“Well, yes,” Fitz agreed. “But sometimes, you have to work for it. I can’t give it out for free every time.”

Grant laughed, and dragged Fitz into him.

“I’ll wait forever and work the hardest I’ve ever had to for it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“ Mmmhm ,” Grant replied. “You are worth every bit of effort, you know. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.”

Fitz dragged his hand through Grant’s hair.

“Show me, then,” Fitz said, intentionally challenging him. Grant grinned, and readily took up the challenge.

* * *

Back before he worked at Shield Tech, after the accident, he met a man he really, really liked, and was desperately infatuated with him. Lance Hunter was English, stubborn, loud, and liked football, and when he kissed Fitz, it was like the rest of the world didn’t fucking matter. His shaking hands, his fumbling tongue, none of it matter because  _ Lance Hunter _ was kissing him. The fact that he was in an on-again, off-again relationship with his  _ wife _ wasn’t of any consequence. Bobbi was lovely. Terrifying, but lovely. 

One afternoon, running late from a meeting that definitely could have been an email, Fitz and Grant left the building at a slight jog together. 

“We should be able to make it to the station just as the train gets there,” Fitz said, checking his route tracking app as they stepped off the elevator and headed for the parking lot entrance. “Getting us there, even with delays, 10 minutes before our reservation.”

“ Fitzy !” Lance Hunter called, drawing Fitz and Grant’s attention back to the building they were trying to leave. “My favorite Scotsman! What are you doing here?”

“I work here, Hunter,” he answered. 

Hunter jogged over to him, dressed in the all-black clothes that Shield Tech Security wore below their padded uniforms, and pulled him into a kiss. It was hot the way Hunter’s kisses always had been ,  hi s hands sliding up his chest to hold  Fitz's neck.

“Whoa , okay ,” Fitz said, laughing, pushing Hunter off and taking a step back. “Sorry, Hunter, it’s not like that anymore .”

“Sick of me finally?”

“Less sick of you, more in love with him,” Fitz replied, gesturing towards Grant, his face stony. “This is Grant, he’s my boyfriend. Grant, this is Lance Hunter, an old, what even are you, a fuck buddy, I guess.”

“Who are you calling old?”

“You, old man,” Fitz replied easily. “I didn’t know you were working Security here. Since when? Does Bobbi know?”

Bobbi Morse, Lance’s ex-wife, appeared as if summoned by her name. 

“Bobbi knows,” she replied. She pulled Fitz into a hug. “Good to see you, Leo.”

“You work here, too?”

“I’m the one that got him the job,” Bobbi answered. “Easier to keep him alive and out of trouble if he’s right here where I can see him, you know.”

“I bet he’s still managing to get in trouble,” Fitz said, and he could see the grin on Hunter’s face. “Well, don’t disappear into the depths of Shield’s secrets.”

“Don’t believe the legends, it’s not that bad,” Bobbi said. “Besides, nothing can kill Hunter except for me.”

“That’s true,” Fitz agreed.

“We should get going,” Grant said softly, his fingers brushing the inside of Fitz’s wrist, “if you want to catch the train.”

“Oh, right. You’re right. We’ve got reservations to keep. Keep your hands to yourself now, Hunter.”

“You let me know if he lets you go, love,” Hunter teased as Fitz started walking backwards, Grant following just behind him. “Or, better yet, if he’s into it, I’d gladly share you.”

“Goodbye, Hunter,” Fitz said, rolling his eyes. “Bye, Bobbi!”

He caught Grant’s hand as he turned, and didn’t let go. They didn’t speak at all, even though words were buzzing in Fitz’s head. 

“You can ask,” he said.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, you can ask.”

“I’m not mad, Leo. You’re allowed to have exes.”

“Most of them don’t work with us, or kiss me when they see me.”

“That’s certainly true . He kissed _ you _ _ , _ though, and you handled it perfectly. You pushed him away immediately, and introduced me to him. It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t be jealous, unless you want me to be.”

“Thanks,” Fitz said, looking down at the pavement.

“Do you want to tell me about him?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I want to know everything about you, about who you are, about who you were before we met, and that is going to include other guys. Hunter is a part of your life, so, if you’re comfortable with it, tell me about him.”

“So, technically, first, Hunter isn’t actually an ex, because you have to be together for that term to apply. He was just a repeated hook up. We met after the attack at a group therapy meeting that Mack made me go to, and he’s helped me with regaining some control over my motor function, and he also needed someone to distract him from breaking up with Bobbi again.”

“How exactly did he help you with  _ motor function _ ?”

“By practicing,” Leo answered.

“Oh, so a sex thing, clearly, based on how dodgy you’re being.”

“Do you want to hear about my sex life with Hunter? How he asked me to hold a toy steady inside of him and also stroke his dick until he came? That sound like the kind of stuff you want to know?”

“Have you been holding out on me with the things you can do, baby?” Grant teased,  unfazed by Fitz’s challenge as always.

“Oh, trust me, you get the top shelf stuff of what I can do every time.”

“Good,” Grant said, kissing the edge of Fitz’s lips without breaking his stride. “You have an interesting relationship with them, sleeping with Hunter and friends with his ex-wife.”

“They have an interesting relationship with each other, to be fair.”

They were quiet for a moment, heading down the subway steps.

“Would you be interested in  _ being shared _ ?” Grant asked as they hit the platform. 

“No,” Fitz answered automatically, checking the board. The train should be arriving in two minutes. “Not like that. When I’m with you, I want it to be just you with me. I don’t want Hunter in our bed if you’re there. You’re enough, you’re more than enough for me.”

“If it weren’t with me?” Grant asked.

“Maybe. If it were Hunter alone, I’d consider it, because – not that he’s bad at sex, but it’s not the same. But you? I don’t want that the same way. Why? Do you want to share me?”

“I don’t know, not unless you want it, obviously, but I think I’d be at least into trying it once.”

“Not with him,” Fitz said, “but I’ll try it for you, with you.”

Grant kissed him quick.

“If you could bring literally anyone into our bed, who would you pick?” Grant asked.

“Anyone?” 

“Yeah.”

“Well, a second Grant Ward would be the  _ absolute _ dream,” he answered. “Imagine what wonderful things we could get up to with twice as many you, baby.”

Grant, usually unflappable, blushed.

“Do you like that idea?” Fitz teased. “You filling me from both ends like that?”

“Leo, behave,” Grant tried to laugh it off, looking around at the filling platform. 

“You started it, mister,” he replied, “asking me about threesomes in public.”

“We may need to skip our reservations, I didn’t expect such an effective answer,” Grant said, shifting so he was pressed against Fitz. He couldn’t help shifting back into Grant, hip pressing into the line of Grant’s half hard cock. 

“I’ve been waiting for these reservations for a month. We’re not missing them,” Fitz replied. “But if you’re a good boy through dinner, I have an idea for when we get home.”

“Define good boy.”

“Hands to yourself. No asking for  _ help _ in the  _ bathroom _ like you did last week. No mention of my sex life with Hunter at dinner. And if you’re a very good boy, we’ll work on one of the items from the list.”

“Which item?”

“You’ll find out if you behave.”

Grant groaned and rested his forehead on Fitz’s.

“You’re a tease.”

“Always,” Fitz answered, just as their train pulled in. “Time starts now.”

* * *

They were good together; Fitz couldn’t deny how easy it was to be around Grant. 

Time passed so easily when he was around, and Fitz didn’t care. He went to physical therapy weekly, and Grant was there to soothe his aches after. Grant went to therapy weekly, and Fitz was there to soothe his anxieties after. They watched movies in Fitz’s apartment, and went out on dates, and life was good together.

* * *

“There’s an opening,” Fitz whispered, too afraid to say it out loud but wanting to tell Grant. 

“What’s that?” Grant asked, half asleep on the couch, Fitz laying against his chest browsing through the internal job listings. He’d promised to find Grant a place to go that wasn’t Security, so that’s why he was searching in the first place.

“There’s an opening in Research and Development at Shield Tech.”

Grant sat up, alert, eyes focused. It always made Fitz a little uncomfortable how he could go from asleep to completely awake so quickly, but he never said it aloud.  Grant had had a little trouble when he was younger, a series of rash decisions that led to juvenile detention and community service. He hadn’t told Fitz exactly what had happened afterwards, working through his service with a man he only ever called Garrett, but Fitz could see the scars that it left behind.

“Apply,” Grant said.

“What?”

“Apply right now.”

“No, I can’t,” Fitz said, and he couldn’t. There was an indescribable apprehension in his chest that made it hard to swallow. “No, I can’t. I should talk to Simmons. She deserves it more. She’s been there longer.”

“You should apply, because Simmons will want you to, too,” he replied easily. He was reaching for Fitz’s phone, which Fitz instinctually held out of his grasp. It didn’t matter, though, Grant was long-limbed and unafraid of invading Fitz’s space to get what he wanted, reaching over him, mouth sliding along Fitz’s jaw to distract him. It worked. It always worked. Grant could play Fitz like a goddamn fiddle, plucking his strings like a maestro. He wrapped his hand around the phone and pulled it free with little to no resistance from Fitz. “Is your resume up to date?”

“No,” Fitz grumbled, trying in vain to grab the phone once more, but Grant was quick and distracted him again with a kiss. It was nice, the kiss, of course, but also the easy way they moved around each other. Fitz had never had that. “I didn’t think I’d need to if I were moving laterally within Shield.”

“Unfortunately, you do,” Grant replied. “Let’s start with that. Where’s your computer?”

He was already reaching for the side table where Fitz kept the laptop, and Fitz sighed.

“I can’t, not without talking to Simmons.”

“Then, talk to Simmons. She’s still awake, it’s only 9:30.”

Fitz sighed and Grant leaned in, resting his forehead against Fitz’s temple, his voice low and gentle as he spoke, hot breath ghosting over Fitz’s ear. 

“Leo, you don’t have to, but I think you should. You hate it in Project Management. You don’t belong there.”

“But,” Fitz said softly, and then trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

“But what?”

“I belong with you,” he whispered.

“You’ll still be with me,” Grant said. “We’re not breaking up just because you’re leaving the department, Leo. You’re mine, you know. I don’t want to let you go, but I do want you to be happy. Project Management is not going to make you happy. So, call Simmons and talk to her about it. I’m going to update your resume.”

“You’re going to update  _ my _ resume?”

“You’re going to call Simmons and at the end, when she tells you to go for it, we will have a resume ready for you to apply.”

“You can’t know that Simmons will say that.”

Grant kissed him, fingertips brushing over Fitz’s jaw.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then, trust me with this.”

He passed the phone back to Fitz and went back to logging into the computer and pulling up his files to get to his resume. There wasn’t anything on the computer that Fitz wouldn’t want Grant to see, so he took up his phone and found Simmons’ contact to call.

She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey,” she said cheerily. 

“Hey,” he said, voice quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was looking at the internal listings,” he replied, watching Grant type beside him, pretending that he wasn’t listening to their conversation. “And there is an opening in R&D.”

“Oh my god!” she shrieked. “Did you apply for it?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not! Fitz, apply!”

“Don’t you want to apply for it? You also belong in R&D.”

“Oh, Fitz, no,” Simmons said. “Absolutely apply right now. I’m looking to apply outside of Shield soon anyway.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, my degrees aren’t going to use here either,” she said, “and I’m not looking to build Shield Tech marvels, you know? I just want to do something great, and I think that’ll be done better outside of Shield.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Fitz, we both knew that this wasn’t going to last forever. It wasn’t going to be you and me working side by side like at  uni forever. We’re in different fields, doing different things, and that’s going to be at different companies. But you’re still my best friend. You always will be.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re mine, too.”

“So, apply for the job.”

“Apply for the job,” he echoed. 

“Yes! Apply for it! Go engineer the fuck out of some shit, Leopold!”

“Okay.”

“A little more enthusiasm, Fitz.”

“Okay!”

“Good. Goodnight. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She hung up and Fitz lowered the phone, glancing over at Grant. He could tell from the tilt of Grant’s mouth that he was biting back an “I told you so.”

“Ready to apply?” he said instead. 

“I am, let’s apply.”

* * *

Fitz got the email from Human Resources on Thursday, just before he was heading to lunch with Grant. 

“Wait,” he said, sitting back down.

“No, lunch, no work,” Grant said. 

“I got an email from HR,” he replied, opening it and scanning. “They want me to interview with R&D tomorrow at 10:30.”

“That’s great, Leo!” 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, staring at the meeting request. “I have to clear it with Coulson first.”

“Okay, go clear it with Coulson then.”

“It’s -”

“Clear what with Coulson?” Coulson asked as he passed, also headed to lunch, May just behind him.

“There’s an opening in Research and Development, and I applied, and they want me in for an interview tomorrow at 10:30.”

“Oh! Of course! Yes!” Coulson said. “That’s great, Leo. Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Fitz replied, still struggling with the idea that he was so close to being an engineer again. “You might have an email to approve it officially.”

“I’ll take care of that right after lunch,” Coulson promised before heading towards the elevators with May.

“What’s wrong?” Grant slipped between the desks to lean into Fitz’s space. They weren’t technically out as a couple to the company, but everyone in the department knew what they were. “Are you still worried about Jemma?”

“No,” Fitz said. “She’s beat it into me that she doesn’t want the position.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking around. “Maybe not here.”

“Okay. Let’s go to lunch, then. We’ll talk in the car.”

“You’re good to me,” Fitz said almost dreamily. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do, you deserve to be happy and I’m going to spend all of my time making sure you’re happy, baby.” Grant kissed him, and said, “let’s go get lunch and talk about it.”

Fitz clocked out and locked his computer, leaving the email meeting invitation unanswered and followed Grant towards the elevators. 

In Grant’s car, they sat with the car running but the radio off. 

“Talk to me,” Grant said.

Fitz held out his hand in the air, flat and unsupported, and showed his tremoring hand. 

“This is a problem,” he said, “because I can’t hold little tools and do delicate things when they do this every goddamn time. It’s been good, it’s been getting better, but it still does this bullshit.”

“Leo,” Grant started but Fitz shook his head and Grant quieted. 

“I’m just worried that I’m not going to be good at engineering anymore. Because I can’t hold things and build things, and my brain doesn’t make the right connections when it should. What if they hire me and I’m fucking terrible at the job? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t be an engineer anymore. This is all I’ve ever really loved, at least things that I love to do, and what if I can’t do it?”

“We’ll figure something out, then.  More physical therapy. Experiment treatments. Or something.”

“I’m scared,” he replied.

“I know.”

Fitz sighed, reaching out and taking Grant’s hand in his own.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, though. Thank you for listening, and encouraging me nonetheless.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you, Leo Fitz.”

Fitz leaned over Grant’s center console and claimed his mouth, grabbing at the front of his button up and using it to leverage Grant towards him. He was normally capable of keeping his hands to himself, especially at work or during the work day. Once he started touching Grant, it was hard to let go and step away. He was hot, and kissed like a god, and it was difficult to walk away without getting off with him. 

“Feeling frisky today,” Grant muttered into the kiss. 

“Let me enjoy this.”

“No argument from me.”

Grant licked into his mouth and slid his hands into Fitz’s hair to keep him close, curling his fingers and tugging at the hair at his nape lightly. Without meaning to, Grant pulled a moan from Fitz and chuckled to himself into the kiss. 

Normally, he was capable of keeping his hands to himself simply because his friends were relentless and would somehow  _ know _ that he’d had his hands all over Grant.

“Maybe we should stop,” Grant said softly. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to stop if we keep going.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Fitz said, dragging kisses over his jaw, following the line of his beard, the little hairs scraping lightly, pleasantly at his lips. “We should, but I don’t want to.”

“Come here, then,” Grant said, sliding his seat back and gesturing Fitz over the console. He eagerly climbed up over the console and slid himself onto Grant’s lap, gripping his shirt still. “Good. God, you’re gorgeous, Leo.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“We’re both very beautiful. Come down here and be beautiful with me, baby.”

Fitz grinned and kissed Grant again, hot and heady, his own hands sliding up from his chest to hold his face, his hands perfectly cupped around his jaw as if they were made for each other. They were soft, leaning into each other, unable to stop, unwilling. 

There came a rap on the hood of the car, and Fitz looked up to see Daisy and Simmons walking by. Grant reached over and rolled down the window to yell, “fuck off.”

“No fucking in the parking garage!” Daisy replied. 

“Stop looking if you don’t want to see,” Grant shot back.

“Meet you guys at Dinah’s?” Simmons asked, catching Fitz’s eyes by ducking a little to see into the car. 

“Yeah, see you there,” Fitz replied, sighing and moving off of Grant’s lap. “Save us a seat.”

“Don’t take too long.”

They both ducked into Simmons’ car, and out of view, leaving Grant and Fitz alone. 

“Let’s call out sick for the rest of the day,” Grant said, leaning back towards Fitz, kissing his jaw, neck, ear. “I want to see what your fingers can do.”

“Oh, baby,” Fitz muttered. “You’re such a tease.”

“It’s only a tease if you decide we’re going to lunch instead of home.”

“Unfortunately, we’re going to lunch.”

He groaned and looked over at Simmons’ car as they pulled out of their parking space. 

“Tonight, after work, I’m taking you home, I’m undressing you, and I’m absolutely getting my hands all over you. And you’re going to show me what you can do with those beautiful, talented fingers, Leo Fitz.”

“God, now you are really being a tease.”

Grant grinned at him.

“That’s how I feel every time we’re at work and you won’t touch me.”

“Because we’re at work.”

“You’re no fun. I just want to suck you off in the bathroom sometimes.”

“You’re a terrible person, you know that.”

“I know.”

“Do you feel any remorse?”

“None at all.”

“Just drive, love. Lunch first, and work, and at the end of the day, I will do whatever you want, to you or whatever you want to do to me. God,  _ whatever _ you want to do to me, please.”

* * *

“Welcome to Research and Development, Leopold,” his new manager, Dr. Anne Weaver said when Fitz arrived at his first shift. She was waiting at the elevator lobby, dressed in a white lab coat and had a welcoming smile on her face. 

“Just Leo is fine,” Fitz said. 

“Well, Leo, it’s great to have you on our team. I’ll show you to your assigned lab and we’ll get you caught up on some of the projects we’re working on, and hopefully get you started on one of your very own.”

Fitz actually loved Research and Development, and hoped to settle in easily, but people were not exactly his strong suit. He said the wrong things, he came on too strong, and mostly people just didn’t like him. It had taken Grant two years to warm up to Fitz, although that was possibly Grant’s fault more than it was Fitz’s, but even with Simmons, it took an actual fight and rivalling over their intelligence to become friends. Fitz, historically, wasn’t flush with friends. But his coworkers weren’t just strangers he had to charm; they were his colleagues he had to impress. Fitz was good at engineering, but with his nerves, his hands shook, and it was hard to impress people when he couldn’t even make his hands listen. 

The first week was the worst week Fitz had ever experienced at a job, especially when his coworkers weren’t talking to him and when they were, they were rude or hostile.

“Hey, coming to lunch?” Grant asked, dropping by his lab station one afternoon. “Are you – Leo?”

Fitz’s hands were shaking, and he couldn’t get the wire into the circuit. 

“Fitz.”

Grant wasn’t technically allowed in the lab, even as a Project Manager, but there were some rules that Grant just didn’t care about. Seeing Fitz when he wanted to was one of them.

“Hey,” Fitz replied, setting his hands down on the countertop. “I need you to come here and help me, actually, before we go.”

“Absolutely,” he said, coming to Fitz’s side without hesitation. Fitz could see the sneer in his coworker,  Nathaniel’s face as he looked over Fitz and Grant. He hadn’t said anything homophobic yet, even with the pride flag that Simmons had dropped into his pencil cup after his first day there, but that didn’t mean anything. “What can I do?”

“I can’t stop shaking, and I really need to get at least this circuit completed today. So, I’m going to walk you through how to do this, since you have the steadiest hands I know.”

Grant, without hesitation, stepped up to the workspace and let Fitz walk him through attaching the circuitry. He was quick, his hands dexterous, and Fitz loved watching him work. He’d keep Grant in the lab all the time just to watch him  if he could. 

“Thank you,” Fitz said when Grant completed the last step. “You’re very handy to keep around, Mr. Ward.”

Grant grinned at him.

“Ready for lunch, then?”

“I am. Let me just put this away.”

Lunch, no matter how his day had been, was the great equalizer. Luckily, he took the same lunch still, so he met up with Grant, and together they’d meet up with Daisy and Simmons at their favorite spots. Whatever happened, whatever snotty comment  Nathaniel made about his progress, whatever thing his hands ruined, he could count on his friends to be there to cheer him up and distract him from his thoughts. Grant’s hand on his knee below the table always cleared whatever storm clouds had been brewing around him.

He kissed Grant after lunch at the elevators, a reminder to remain this happy even away from him, to solidify him here. It never worked, but he tried it every day nonetheless.

“Leo,” Dr. Weaver said that afternoon, appearing from her office,  Nathaniel beside her. “I need to speak with you in my office, please.”

Fitz set down his project, which had been going better now that the little finicky wires had been assembled, and followed Weaver into her office.  Nathaniel left for his own station, leaving Fitz alone. He felt like a schoolboy in the headmaster’s office again, too smart for kids his own age, bored so he resorted to building during lecture. 

“It has been brought to my attention that you brought your boyfriend into the lab to help with a classified Shield Tech project. Is this true?”

Fitz frowned.

“Yes, but he’s not some stranger I brought in from outside the company. Grant is a Shield Tech employee with clearance as a Project Manager to oversee and –” 

The look on Weaver’s face stopped him.

“It does not matter, Leo. He is not to be in the lab, do you understand?”

“He was only helping me build a circuit.”

“You are qualified to build a circuit yourself, are you not?”

“Doctor Weaver, I made it perfectly clear during my interview that my injury sometimes prevents me to work with delicate objects.”

“You also made it clear that it would not stand in your way of completing a project.”

Fitz stalled at that, because he had but only because they had promised him the leeway to allow him time or resources to work through it.

“I expect from now on that you will complete your projects without outside help. Is that understood, Mr. Fitz?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Good. Don’t have your boyfriend in this lab again or I will be forced to write you up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, good. Thank you for understanding.”

Except Fitz didn’t understand, and he was angry, and he couldn’t do anything about this anger. He walked back out to his station and stewed, hands eerily still in his frustration. He completed his work for the day, and moved to his next phase, designing an energy source. 

It was incredibly unfair and frustrating to have been given this opportunity to use his skills at a reasonable expected rate due to his disability just to have it taken away from him when he actually needed it. It hadn’t even been a week yet, and they’d already ripped out that rug from underneath him. He was angry at himself for believing them, and angry at  Nathaniel for tattling, and Weaver for disciplining him even though he wasn’t at fault, and somehow, a little angry at Grant which was unfair but he was tired of fighting for a place in the world.

He left without speaking to anyone for the rest of the day, and met Grant with a heavy blackened outlook for the day.

“What’s wrong?” Grant asked.

“Nothing. Just, work shit. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” he said, a little snappier than called for since it wasn’t Grant’s fault . But it hurt deep into his chest that the world was against him this much, this often. Grant, though, was undeterred. He hadn’t really gotten a lot of Fitz’s bad moods since i t was Grant that fixed them, his presence soothing.  But Grant had seen far worse than Fitz in a bad mood and wasn’t scared away by his sharp tone. He wrapped his hand around Fitz’s wrist to keep him in his space. “I got in trouble for you coming into the lab.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah,  Nathaniel fucking tattled. I got a Talking To by my manager that I am not to have you there again, and I need to finish my projects without help.”

Grant frowned.

“Didn’t they agree to give you considerations?”

“Yes,” Fitz said, leaning into Grant’s chest tiredly. “I’m just ready to go home and forget that today happened .”

“Okay. Let’s go home, baby.”

* * *

Fitz and Grant had unofficially moved in together, Grant staying at Fitz’s apartment with him and Faraday most nights than he spent at his own home. Eventually, Grant’s dog, Buddy moved into the apartment with them so he wasn’t alone every night. Strangely, Faraday and Buddy got along amazingly. Faraday curled up with Buddy on the couch as they headed for work. 

Most mornings, Fitz woke up with Buddy pressed behind his legs, Grant’s arm slung over his waist, and Faraday’s tail  curled over his neck from where he was asleep on the pillows. It was the closest thing Fitz could imagine to Paradise, surrounded by so much love and affection. 

“ What are you thinking about?” Grant asked, scooching in behind Fitz so their bodies were pressed flush together.  It was a sunny morning, Fitz and Grant had scheduled appointments on the same day so they could spend a sleepy morning together before going to physical therapy and emotional therapy respectively. 

“You,” Fitz said, bringing one of Grant’s hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. 

“ What about me?”

“ How good you are to me, how happy I am with you here, how incredibly lucky I am. You know, the top hits.”

Grant kissed the nape of his neck and pulled him in closer still. 

“Yeah?”

Fitz hummed, warm in the sunshine, warm in Grant’s arms, this little family that he hadn’t thought he’d deserved once. He did, though. He’d worked so hard, and tried so hard, and been through so much. He deserved a little patch of sunshine, his boyfriend’s sleepy breath on his neck, the vibrating purr of their cat, everything. He deserved this happiness. 

* * *

Each day was hell. That’s what this had to be. He was being punished at work for his happiness at home. 

He’d thought, maybe naïvely, that work would get easier. Weaver would see his quality of work was good, even if his quantity output wasn’t stellar. It took him longer to finish a design than anyone else in the department, but he was a good engineer. He knew that. Without Simmons at his side the way it had been in grad school, his thoughts weren’t linear, his attention scattered, hands tremoring. 

It didn’t get any easier. 

Nathaniel tattled on him for everything, and Fitz clashed with Weaver over everything. She micromanaged him, standing over him as he worked, critiqued his techniques, his notes, his designs themselves. Fitz knew his own worth. He’d been gifted since he was a child, and he’d worked so hard after his accident to catch back up. He belonged in the same department. Even on his bad days, his work was monumentally more sophisticated and, in his own opinion, more ethically-sourced. But Weaver liked Nathaniel because his father was an important shareholder, and Fitz was a Scottish nobody with a hand tremor. Shield Tech wasn’t supposed to be like this, but Fitz supposed there was always corruption and favoritism in any company. It was hard to avoid. Human nature, and all that.

It was six months before he could apply out inside of the company. He could get through six months. He’d been beaten and dropped into the river. He’d suffered a brain injury and struggled through recovery. He could get through six months, but he would not stay a minute longer. 

* * *

This time, Fitz didn’t make a big deal of it. He saw the opening in the internal job postings, and applied. He got the email from HR when and where to meet his interviewer, and let Weaver know he’d be going to an interview in another department.

“Why? Are you not happy here?” she asked.

“I’m just looking to branch out. Maybe I have lost my knack for engineering after so long and a traumatic brain injury,” he said without emotion.

Despite everything, Fitz interviewed well. He was intelligent, and he knew how to answer questions that charmed his interviewer, even if he himself was not naturally charming. Robert Gonzales was a stoic man with a voice like gravel, and Fitz found that he liked him a lot better than any engineer in the R&D department. 

“Can I ask you a question, off the record?” Gonzales asked at the end of the interview.

“Absolutely.”

“You transferred to R&D, and now are immediately transferring out after the grace period. What can you tell me about that?”

“It’s not a good fit,” Fitz said honestly. 

“I looked at your resume, you know, I saw your PhD in engineering and your years at Cyber Secure as the head of their Research and Development department. What is it about Shield Tech that is different?”

“Off the record?”

Gonzales nodded.

“I was given the position on the guarantee that my disability would be accommodated, and to date, it has not. I tried speaking to my manager but she thinks I’m faking it, and I don’t want to be there anymore. I like Shield as a company, and I enjoy the things we do here, so I don’t want to leave the company as a whole , but I do not feel welcome in my current position.”

Gonzales nodded again.

“Well, you can consider the job yours. I’ll start the paperwork to transfer you to Security, and we’ll see you here on Monday. You’ll be partnered with Lance Hunter. You know him, right?”

“I do in fact.”

He knew Lance Hunter better than most people, to a biblical degree. He knew what Lance Hunter sounded like when he came, and what parts of him were ticklish, and which turned him on with a graze of a finger, and he knew all of Hunter’s kinks. Beyond that, he knew Hunter’s insecurities, and his traumas. Hunter had held his hands steady for months. There was no one he would rather partner with.

“Welcome to the team, Leopold.”

“You can just call me Fitz.”

Gonzales smiled, and it was a warm thing, odd and welcoming.

“Welcome to the team, then, Fitz.”

* * *

When he met Grant at the elevators that day, he felt lighter than he had in six months. 

“What’s this? You’re happy,” Grant said. “At work.”

“I am,” Fitz agreed. “I actually have something to tell you.”

“Oh?”

“I applied out of R&D.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, I, I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. I’m sick of how I’m treated there, and I don’t want to leave Shield, but I’ve tried making it better in the lab, and it’s been hell ever since I started, so I applied out. And I got the job. I start on Monday.”

“Where?”

“Security.”

Grant stalled in the lobby heading for the parking garage.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s the only place that had an opening,” Fitz said with a shrug.

“I distinctly remember you telling me that I can’t go to Security specifically because people get hurt and disappear there.”

“I did,” Fitz said, “and I stand by that.”

“Then, why is it suddenly okay for  _ you _ to go to Security? I care if you get hurt or disappear, you know. You’re not the only one in this relationship who cares what happens to the other.”

“I’m not saying that,” Fitz said, grabbing him by the belt loop at the small of his back before he could go away. “Hey, I know that. It’s just, I can’t stay in R&D, Grant. I can’t handle the humiliation day after day. No one takes me seriously. My hands shake worse when I’m there than they do any other place. I can’t do it anymore. It makes me miserable.”

“Fitz,” Grant said softly.

“I have to get out of there, and at this point it doesn’t matter where I go. I can’t spend another week there. I’ll kill someone, or myself. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Grant said. “I wish you would have told me it was that bad.”

“I didn’t know how. It hurt so bad, and I internalized it for so long.”

Grant started them towards the car again, and said, “are you talking still about the department, or something else?”

Fitz frowned, and scratched at his jaw.

“Something else, I guess. A little bit of both.”

“What’s on your mind, then?”

“I don’t know how to be an engineer anymore,” Fitz said. “You know? I’m extremely limited in what I can do anymore. I thought, I thought I had accepted it, but working with Weaver, and Nathaniel, and being in that environment where it wasn’t accepted, wasn’t accommodated, it was scary, and it hurt a lot more than I was prepared for. Every day, I was this  _ burden _ on the team. I wasn’t creating enough, wasn’t progressing. I’ve never gotten a write up in my entire life but Weaver slapped me with one the first month I was in the department for literally nothing. She saw me as a problem. She told me that I was faking it to get out of completing projects on time, or that I was just being lazy.”

Grant let out a deep grumble, bordering on a growl.

“It was like being back with Da again,” Fitz said. “And I thought, I thought I’d worked past it, the shit he used to say to me, but apparently not. It’s just all sitting in my stomach, and it feels  _ bad _ .”

“I bet,” Grant said, sliding his hand into Fitz’s. 

“I need to call my therapist, I guess,” Fitz said. “See what she says.”

“Probably that this is a normal reaction to experiencing trauma.”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised by that. I kind of want to throw up, actually.”

“How about we go home, we get some take out, and I make you forget all about Anne Weaver?”

“Promise?”

“Have I ever failed to deliver before?”

“No, but I still like promises as long as they’re not broken.”

Despite still being on Shield property, where there were security cameras everywhere, Grant reeled him in even closer and kissed him deeply like nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered. That was a fact. Fitz didn’t doubt that, felt it deep in his chest. Nothing else mattered but them.

* * *

At home, they tumbled through the door together, kissing already. Fitz had his hands underneath Grant’s shirt, having pulled it out of his pants  on the walk up to his apartment.

“Hey,” he said, the thought striking him, “do you live here?”

Grant broke the kiss to look at him with his eyebrows  furrowed.

“Yes?”

“Like, did you change your address with everyone and give up your old apartment?”

“Oh, no. I guess not.”

“Tomorrow,” Fitz said, hands steady enough to undress Grant, starting with the buttons on his shirt, “ do that. Move in with me permanently, officially. I want you here always.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said definitively. “ I don’t like the idea that you have a foot somewhere else just in case. I want you here one hundred percent.”

“Gladly. First thing tomorrow.” Fitz grinned. “But for tonight, take your goddamn clothes off, Leo.”

* * *

It started off as another day, arriving at Shield Tech and dressing in the locker room. He joked around with Hunter, and warmed up with sparring against Bobbi, which she and Hunter had been teaching him at the start of every shift. Security wasn’t bad, actually, not the way all of the horror stories and workplace lore had led him to believe. Hunter had his back, though, keeping him alert and alive. 

“Fitz, you’ve been volunteered for overtime. Davis just called in sick, and you’re going to be taking his late-night shift. Piper will be taking the second half of the shift after she gets off her monitors, so you’re not awake for 24 hours straight,”  Gonzales said from his office door. He was the Director of Security for all of Shield Tech but always chose to be with his officers in the locker rooms rather than in a squishy upstairs office with the rest of the Directors of Important Things. 

“Yes, sir,” Fitz said.  Gonzales nodded and stepped away. 

“Better tell Ward you’ll be missing date night, newbie,” Hunter teased. Fitz already had his phone out to text Grant and rolled his eyes at Hunter. He was glad that Hunter was a part of the team, because for as long as he’d known Hunter, he’d been openly queer, and it made Fitz feel safer around him. He didn’t have to worry about the guys giving him shit for being gay because Hunter was there before him, and he didn’t take that shit at all. 

Fitz texted Grant that he’d be home really late and not to wait up for him. Grant texted back immediately because he always had his phone out at his desk.

“Be safe I love you”

Fitz put his phone away in his locker and followed Hunter to the weapons lock up.

It was a normal day, making their rounds, talking idly. 

“How are things with Bobbi?” Fitz asked.

“Oh, so good!” Hunter crowed, and Fitz laughed. “We actually went on a date last night.”

“What does a date night with you two even look like?”

“Why? Do you want to join us? Offer always stands for you,  Fitzy boy!”

“No, thanks, I’m good with Grant. I just was curious because I imagine it looks a lot like Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

Hunter laughed, and shrugged, “you’re not wrong, mate.”

“I’m good with my squishy boring date nights then.”

“Fine, but if he ever singles you up, I will be right there,” Hunter promised. He’d been saying that for months since he met Grant.

“Sure thing,” Fitz said. Hunter was absolutely harmless, at least to him and his relationship, but he was an amazing lethal weapon as security. It always astounded Fitz to watch Hunter work. 

“And what does a boring, squishy Fitz date look like?”

“You know, dinner, drinks, sometimes a movie. We went to a club for dancing last week with Daisy and Simmons.”

“Never gone to an underground cage match, then?”

“Hunter,  _ we _ never went to an underground cage match.”

“I was too busy getting you naked, love.”

“Of course,” Fitz laughed. “I’d say you can’t fight if you’re fucking me, but I actually know you too well to believe that’s true.”

“I’m willing to try it if you are.”

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.”

At the end of their shift, Hunter pat him on the back, and Fitz headed back out to continue tracing the perimeter. Davis had a different route on the overnight shift, working alone but in conjunction with the other guards so no entrance was left unmonitored for more than a few minutes. It was quiet and solitary, and Fitz counted himself lucky to be on first shift with Hunter normally. He would’ve  killed for a podcast to work to, but that was against the rules. If he were listening to a podcast, he wasn’t alert and focused. But fuck, he was extremely bored doing laps around the compound.

“Fitz,” Piper’s voice came through his ear piece.

“What’s up, Piper?”

“I see something in the parking garage at the edge of the cameras. Mind checking it out?”

“No problem,” Fitz replied, heading for the parking garage. “What level?”

“Looks like whatever it is, is on level C.”

“Okay, on my way.”

Level C was the deepest level of the underground parking garage, and no one parked there if they could help it. Mostly, that was saved for Shield Tech vans and company cars. He’d only parked there once, when Grant and he attended the last year’s Christmas  party when all of Shield Tech’s big wigs and shareholders were given priority parking.

When Fitz arrived, he waved at the camera to let Piper know he’d made it. He saw the camera shake back and forth at him as if Piper were waving back.

“See that thing to your left?” Piper asked.

Fitz turned.

“It’s a wooden crate,” Fitz replied.

“A single crate?”

“Yeah, marked with the Shield logo, and it’s destination is sub-level Q, apparently.”

“Sub-level Q? That’s – that’s the classified lab.”

“Why is anything being sent directly to that lab?”

“I don’t know, but be careful, Fitz. I’m routing Reyes your way as back-up. Stand –”

Then, Piper cut out and there was a knocking from inside the crate, insistent and frantic. Fitz drew his weapon cautiously.

“Piper, come in,” Fitz tried, but there was no response. “Fuck me. Okay.”

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to the crate.

“Come out with your hands up. This is Shield Tech property and you are trespassing.”

“The crate is nailed shut. I need you to open it!”

Fitz honestly wasn’t expecting a voice in reply.

“Please, help me,” the man pleaded.

He put his gun away slowly and checked the  comms again.

“Piper, you there? Can you hear me?”

He turned to look at the camera but he could see that the recording light was off, and it wasn’t transmitting to Piper’s systems in the security office.

“Please, I can barely breathe,” the man said

Fitz had to act, and if the man died, it would be on his head and no one else’s. Not for the first time, he wished for Hunter to be there with him. Hunter would know what to do.

“Stay calm, sir,” Fitz said.

“Little hard when I woke up in a crate, kid,” the voice said, breaking a little at the end. 

“Okay, I’ll get you out of there.”

Fitz, ever the engineer, kept a small tool kit at his hip opposite his holster in case of emergency, including a pair of needle nose pliers. He set to work pulling at the nails one by one, and yanked the crate lid off. Inside, a man was curled into himself, the crate lined with padding, his clothes rumpled and a black eye starting to blossom.

“Thank you,” he said, starting to stand, wincing as he moved. “You saved my life.”

He was older than Fitz by at least twenty years, and something about his face was familiar to Fitz, tickling the back of his brain but not enough for him to recognize the man.

“How did you get in there?” Fitz asked, taking his pliers and tucking them back into the kit at his hip. Hunter made fun of him for it, but it came in handy more often than not.

“I don’t quite remember; I was leaving work and all of a sudden someone hit me over the head with something heavy and metal, and I woke up here a couple hours ago. I’ve been trying to get someone’s attention, but,” he looked around before continuing, “is this a parking garage?”

“Yes,” Fitz said, hand going to the grip of his gun out of paranoia and, mainly, confusion. “Shield Tech headquarters.”

The man looked surprised at that.

“Shield Tech?”

“Yes.”

The man’s eyes found Fitz’s, and then down to his hand on his weapon.

“Now, there’s no need for that, Fitz,” the man said. Fitz tried not to show the startle that rocked through him, but he wasn’t an actor. A cruel smile spread across the man’s face as he stepped out of the crate without an issue. “I was really hoping to get you alone, actually.”

“Why me?”

Where the fuck was Reyes? Or Piper? Literally anyone on the security team?

“Do you not know who I am?” he asked.

Fitz, while extraordinarily brilliant and exceedingly clever, was notoriously terrible with faces. He studied this man’s face again, the receding hairline, the frown lines, the bags under his eyes, the faintest stubble along his jaw. 

“Should I?”

“Ward’s never mentioned me, then? That’s hard to believe with how  _ close _ you seem. Unless he’s hiding some pretty significant things from you. That wouldn’t surprise me at all, of course. He’s never been a committed relationship type of guy.”

Fitz was terrible with faces, but he knew everything about Grant Ward.

“You’re Garrett,” Fitz said, barely a whisper, stepping away.

“At your service,” Garrett said with a wolfish grin and exaggerated bow. 

“What the fuck do you want?” 

“Well, now, that’s just rude, Fitz. I come all this way to meet you, to get to know you, and you treat me like this.”

“I’m sorry you made the trip, but I have no desire to get to know you,” Fitz replied. He kept his hand on his gun, watching Garrett carefully.

“Well, I want to get to know you. I want to know exactly why Ward stopped calling me back, cut ties, moved on. I want to know what is so special about  _ Leopold _ _ Fitz _ to make Ward forget his loyalties.”

Fitz stood steady.

“That’s an easy question,” Fitz replied. “I give him something you never could, or would.”

Garrett sneered at that.

“What’s that, then?”

“Love, affection, safety,” Fitz said. “You know, basic human needs. I didn’t give him a place to feel safe and then rip that away from him to teach him a lesson. I didn’t abandon him in the woods for months without human contact. I didn’t train him to be a soldier for a war he’s not a part of.”

Garrett shook his head.

“I did what I had to in order to help Ward survive this world.”

Fitz rolled his eyes at that. It was something his dad used to say when he was a kid, after shouting at Fitz for being stupid, being useless, that he was just trying to make him  _ better _ . It was the abusers of the world’s defense, that they were toughening them up, making them better, making them useful, teaching them a lesson. 

“Fuck off,” Fitz said with a scoff. 

He’d been through years of therapy, even before the accident, and he knew bullshit when he heard it. 

“You weren’t helping him survive, the world isn’t a war zone,” Fitz replied before Garrett could start again. “You act like I haven’t seen his scars, like I haven’t been there after his nightmares. I know Grant Ward, and I know what you did to him, and I will not let you wash that away because you thought you were helping him. You weren’t. You broke him, and left him. I don’t give a fuck what you  _ thought  _ you were doing.”

Garrett’s wolfish grin fell from his face, replaced by something darker, something that sparked fear in Fitz’s brain from childhood. 

“Oh, wait,” Garrett said, lifting a hand to his ear comically to listen. “I think I hear our guest of honor.”

Fitz turned, his first mistake, and heard the pounding of feet on pavement coming from the ramp from level B. Garrett surged forward and grabbed Fitz around the neck, yanking him backward. He had a good four inches on Fitz, and he was much stronger than him. Fitz was held fast to his chest, Garrett’s arm around his throat. Garrett easily took the gun from Fitz’s holster and tossed it into the crate behind them, just as Grant came around the ramp’s corner at a dead sprint. 

Fitz had seen Grant on jogs and runs, leisurely and laughing, teasing him to keep up, that his Gran could run faster than that. He’d never seen Grant sprint before, face cold and furious.

“Here he is,” Garrett taunted in Fitz’s ear, and then pressed the cold metal of a gun barrel into Fitz’s temple. Grant stopped mid-stride a dozen feet from them, and held up his hands in surrender.

“You don’t want to do  this , John.”

_ John _ ?

And then, it clicked in Fitz’s brain finally. 

John Garrett was a former Shield Tech  employee who had been caught selling company secrets to Hydra Tech, their direct competition, and had been arrested, but had never been sentenced. He’d slipped away with millions of dollars, and had just disappeared. Shield used him as a prime example of why vigilance was key, and to report anyone you might suspect of insider trading. 

And Garrett, Grand Ward’s mentor and abuser, was the same fucking person. 

Fitz caught Grant’s eyes, who softened just enough for Fitz to feel safe again, even with a gun pointed directly at his skull. 

“Let him go, Garrett. This isn’t about him.”

“Oh, Grant, yes, it is.”

Grant furrowed his brow. 

“I’ve spent my entire life getting rid of competition, you know. I hate it. I hate being contested, especially when I am better in every regard, you know. I’m stronger, faster, smarter.”

Fitz scoffed and earned himself a tightened arm across his windpipe cutting off his air for a moment. Panic flashed through him bright and hot, and he scrabbled at the arm pressing into him. 

“Let him go,” Grant demanded again.

“No, no, see, he’s in the way,” Garrett emphasized, shaking Fitz a bit. 

It didn’t matter how he clawed at Garrett, he wouldn’t let up, and Fitz couldn’t  _ breathe _ . 

“Please, John,” Grant said, his own panic reflected in Grant’s eyes. “We can talk about this, but you have to let Leo go.”

“He’s still not getting it, is he, Leopold?” Garrett asked, releasing the pressure around his throat. He gasped for air, gripping Garrett’s arm for support. “Oh, that’s right. You  _ drowned.  _ Asphyxiation is fascinating, isn’t it? A terrible way to go, of course. Must bring back some unpleasant memories, huh.”

Fitz wanted to punch him, kick him, stuff him back into the crate and ship it to space.

“Why don’t you tell him why we’re here?” Garrett prompted. 

“He’s here to get rid of his competition,” Fitz coughed out. “He wants you all to himself, and I’m standing in the way of that.”

Grant looked over Fitz and then Garrett, and Fitz could see the calculations start, this soldier’s caution trying to play out the scenario to his advantage.

“If you hurt him, I will never be anything to you ever again,” Grant said. “No matter what we were, if anything happens to Fitz, I will never forgive you.”

This, Fitz thought in a moment between panic, was all Jemma Simmons’ fault, for introducing him to Grant Ward in the first place and having him specifically invite Grant to the New Years party. If he lived, if he survived this, he was absolutely going to blame Simmons for this.

“I don’t care about your forgiveness,” Garrett spat, and Fitz felt wet flecks of actual spit splatter across his cheek. “I want your loyalty and your surrender.”

Fitz couldn’t let Grant go back to Garrett just to save himself. He loved Gant, more than anyone else in the world, and he wasn’t about to let him sacrifice himself and submit himself to new and old tortures.

“You won’t get either if anything happens to him, do you understand?”

“Grant,  _ don’t _ ,” Fitz stressed. He dropped his hand from Garrett’s arm down to his tool kit, keeping his eyes on Grant, and his body still. He knew every tool by touch by now, and even though his hands were shaking, he wrapped his hand around the Phillips head screwdriver. 

“I’m not going to let you get hurt,” Grant assured him.

“And I’m not going to let you go back to your abuser,” Fitz countered. Garrett tightened his arm around Fitz’s neck again and laughed when he let out a choking sound he couldn’t control, his shaking hand letting the screwdriver slip.

“Now, now, Leopold, it’s not nice to call people names.”

Fitz wanted to yank his arm away from his neck, but couldn’t. He wasn’t strong enough, and it would be a waste of energy and time. Instead, he reached for the screwdriver that he’d let slip and, without thinking, panic hot in his lungs, stabbed the tool into Garrett’s thigh as hard and as fast as he could manage. Garrett cried out loud in Fitz’s ear, and released him entirely.

“Holy shit,” Fitz exclaimed as he stumbled forward and into Grant’s arms. “Holy shit!”

Grant pulled him close and ran his hands over Fitz to check him for injuries.

“You’re okay. You did so good, baby,” Grant muttered, turning to put his body between Garrett and Fitz. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Grant,” Garrett snarled, pulling the screwdriver free and tossing it aside, letting it clatter to the ground.

Hunter wouldn’t make fun of him for that toolkit after that night, Fitz thought. 

“Stay behind me,” Grant said softly to Fitz and kissed his forehead. “No matter what, you stay behind me.”

He turned to face Garrett, his body blocking Fitz, one hand coming back to move him into his shadow.

“I told you, this doesn’t have to involve Fitz.”

“You’re wrong there,” Garrett said, and shot between Grant’s feet where Fitz’s legs were visible. He yelped and jumped back. “Even if you come with me now, he’ll still be around for you to run back to. And that just won’t do. That won’t do at all. Hope is such a deceitful thing, you know. Poisonous. If Fitz is alive, you will always hope that you can make it back to him, long after he’s forgotten you and shacked up with the Englishman who loves him. I can’t have that. No, no, that won’t do, Grant. No, I need you broken, and alone, desperate for  a savior.”

Fitz gripped the back of Grant’s jacket to steady him, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

“Fitz, are you there? Can you hear me? I think I got the  comms up and running,” Piper’s voice came through his earpiece again. “Is everything okay?”

“Not great,” he replied as quietly as he could. “How’s that back up coming?”

“Well, Reyes apparently got knocked out on the other side of the compound, but I called the police and they should be arriving any minute. Hang in there, Fitz.”

“No matter what you do, nothing is going to make me come back to you. I’m not a kid anymore. I know my own worth, and you can’t sweet talk me or threaten me into coming with you,” Grant said.

“What we had was so good,” Garrett said.

“No, it wasn’t,” Grant replied. “I was a child that you manipulated for your own sick pleasure. You should’ve left me in juvie.”

“I made you the man you are today.”

“No,  _ I _ did this. I picked myself up and made a life away from you. I put myself back together after what you did. You destroyed everything about me that I actually loved and then left me alone when you got bored like I was some toy you were given at a birthday party, so I fixed me. You had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

Grant was rigid, his spine completely straight, and Fitz could see his jaw clenched. He put his hand flat against his back even as it was tremoring.

“I will never come back to you, even if you burn down the entire world. Hurting Fitz, taking him out of the equation won’t make me desperate for a savior. It won’t make me lose hope. I will never stop hunting you down if you ever put another finger on him, and I’ll make you regret the soldier you made me into. You’ll see that taking me from juvie was your fatal mistake.”

Fitz couldn’t see Garrett from behind Grant’s wall of muscle, but he could feel the tension in his body as Garrett replied coldly, “fine. Then I will rip him away from you, shoot you and then him. It doesn’t matter to me which order you go in.”

“Keep him talking,” Fitz whispered. “Back up is on the way.”

“What do you even want me for?” Grant asked. “I’m a broken kid with an attitude and authority problems, same as I was when we met. You put years into training me and I still turned out insubordinate and disrespectful. Why do you want that?”

“When they’re already broken, it’s easier to build them up how you want them to be.”

Fitz made a face behind Grant of disgust, but held his tongue.

“You just need to be reminded of the rules.”

“I know the rules,” Grant said.

Before he could continue, three cop cars turned into level C with their lights on but their sirens off, headlights lighting the scene up.

“John Garrett, put the gun down and your hands on your head,” one of the officers said from the speaker.

Garrett distracted, Grant pushed Fitz out of the potential cross fire and into the wall by the crate.

“Are you okay?” Grant asked, his body still shielding Fitz. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. Are  _ you _ okay?”

“I’m okay,” Grant said, resting his forehead against Fitz’s. “I’m so sorry, Leo. I never expected him to come after you once I stopped answering him. I never wanted to put you in danger.”

“You didn’t do this. This was all him, all his choices. You did not cause this.”

Fitz felt Garrett’s eyes on him and when he looked up past Grant, he was met with his cold smile. 

“What a good job you’ve done, Leopold,” he called out, hands above his head and gun at his feet. “You do have him trained to be exactly what you want him to be. Protector. Bodyguard. I was wrong about you.”

“Don’t listen to him.”

A shiver ran through Fitz at the thought, dry ice in his throat.

“Look at me,” Grant said, drawing Fitz back to him.

“I don’t want to be like him.”

“You’re not. I was a child when I met Garrett, and I followed him anywhere because I needed someone older and stronger to guide me, and he took advantage of that. You are not that, no matter what he says. I’m here because I want to be. I’m with you because I want you. You are not forcing me to do anything that I don’t want to do, and because of that, I choose to be here with you. I am protective of you because I can’t stand the thought of living without you, the thought of you getting hurt. You are my boyfriend, and my best friend, and the love of my goddamn life, Leopold, but you are not and have never been my master.”

Fitz clutched Grant’s arm to keep from shaking himself out of his skin as a gun went off behind them. Grant, crouched but still incredibly agile, quickly walked them behind the crate for cover. He intentionally kept his body curved around Fitz, arm braced over him. 

“I’m taking a vacation after this,” Fitz whispered, another shot followed by another, echoing loudly through the concrete structure. “We’re going to Scotland, and you’re meeting Mum.”

“You want me to meet your mom?” 

“Well, yeah. I can’t marry you if you haven’t met my mum. Don’t be silly.”

Grant laughed, and kissed Fitz even as gunshots continued.

“That’s certainly one hell of a proposal.”

“After what we’ve been through, I don’t ever want to let you go. You’ve seen me at every high and low I have to offer, and you’re still here. I would’ve asked sooner, but I can’t officially ask you to marry me until you pass Mum’s inspection.”

“You’re so sure I will?”

“After I tell her you put yourself between me and a gun? Absolutely.”

“Are her standards usually that high?”

“Yes.”

Grant smiled for the first time since this started and said, “good. We’re on the same page then.”

There was a final gunshot and the sound of a body falling, and then there was silence. 

“It’s over,” Fitz said.

“ Gonzales is in the locker rooms when you’re done speaking to the cops, Fitz,” Piper said.

“Copy that.”

“Are you okay, though? Just really quick.”

“I’m good, Piper. You did good calling the cops.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re okay. Bobbi and Hunter are on their way in, too, to do a sweep of the building to see if Garrett was up to anything else.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“He didn’t sound too pleased when I called him,” Piper continued.

“I imagine he wouldn’t.”

“I have to finish exporting the footage, but I’m glad you didn’t die, Fitz.”

“Thanks, Piper.”

Grant helped him stand and Fitz peeked into the crate. A uniformed officer stepped up to them as he found his weapon. He’d need to take it to the lock up when they were done.

They went over the whole scene play by play with Fitz, and then Grant.

“I was at home when I got a call from Garrett’s number asking if I knew where Leo was, and then I got a message with a picture of a crate on level C of the parking garage.”

“So, you came running?”

“I drove, but yes. I’ve known John Garrett since I was sixteen years old. I know what he was capable.”

“What is that?”

“It would be too kind to call John Garrett a monster,” Grant replied, looking over to where his body lay, still and bloody, only the statue remains of Grant’s nightmares left. “I thought he’d already hurt Leo, or worse. I thought when I got here, I’d find Leo in the crate.”

Fitz took Grant’s hand and squeezed, reminding him again that they were okay, they were alive, and that they were together.

“We’ll call you if we have any questions.”

“Actually, I have one quick thing,” Fitz said. “I’m a security guard here for Shield, and my gun is actually in that crate. I need to take it to our weapons lock up, and I don’t want to startle anyone.”

The officer leaned into the crate and pulled out his weapon, and passed it over to him without issue. 

“Thank you.”

Fitz led them to the elevator.

“I apparently have to go see  Gonzales , and you are not leaving my sight,” Fitz said to Grant’s raised eyebrow.

Gonzales was waiting in his office, and Hunter was getting changed beside Bobbi into his gear when Fitz and Grant arrived.

“Put your gun and gear away, Fitz, and see Hunter first. I’m sure he wouldn’t forgive me if I pulled you into a meeting before he had a  chance to look you over,”  Gonzales said without looking up from his computer. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and if Fitz wasn’t mistaken, had pillow creases along his cheek.

“Yes, sir.”

When he turned, he met Hunter’s very intense, very unamused stare, and gestured him forward. With that permission, Hunter was across the locker room in a second, hands coming to meet Fitz’s face and then run along his body, checking to make sure he was intact.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m safe. I’m okay.”

“You’re banned from working without me. I’m not there for one night, and you get shot at and held hostage. I could’ve lost you, Fitz. You could have died.”

Fitz caught Hunter’s jaw in both hands to steady him.

“But you didn’t. I’m alive and safe.”

“What would I do without you, mate?”

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out,” Fitz said.

“You’ll wait for back up next time.”

“I’ll wait for back up next time.”

“Good, I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around.”

“Self-destruct, probably,” Bobbi offered from where she had stripped off her sweatshirt and was replacing it with her Shield Tech undershirt.

“Hey, listen though,” Fitz said, turning Hunter’s face toward Bobbi, “that woman is the best thing that has ever happened to you. So, whether I’m around or not, you keep her safe and happy, okay?”

Hunter nodded.

“Good.”

Bobbi stepped up to examine him next as he released Hunter. 

“What happened here?”

She touched his neck and when he looked in the mirror across from the lockers, he found that a bruise was starting to bloom around his neck where Garrett had choked him. 

“The world really wants me to die from suffocation,” he replied, trying for easy and calm but voice cracking a little, “but I’m just too stubborn to die.”

“That’ll be the Scot in you,” Hunter commented. “Or your mum.”

“Definitely my mum,” Fitz replied.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bobbi said and kissed his cheek.

“Me too,” Hunter said, and kissed the other.

They walked off in unison and left Fitz with Grant.

“I will never understand your relationship with them,” Grant said, watching them go.

“Yeah, me neither.”

He took his gun back to weapons lock up and signed it back in with Reggie, the overnight guard. 

“When did Hunter meet your mom?”

“Oh, god, years ago. We flew back to England for the holidays together with Simmons, and Mum met us at Heathrow as a surprise. And when she realized that Hunter didn’t really have holidays plans beyond drinking at his favorite pub, she bought him a train ticket to  Glasgow to have him spend Christmas with us.”

“That’s really sweet,” Grant said as Fitz stepped back to his locker and proceeded to undress. He could feel Grant’s eyes on him as he put the armored padding away. 

“You’re staring,” Fitz said.

“Yeah,” Grant agreed. “I almost lost you tonight. He could have pulled the trigger at any point and you would have been gone. Forever. There’s a bruise around your neck that could’ve taken you away from me.”

He stepped in closer and rested his forehead against Fitz’s. 

“Yes, but it didn’t. We can’t dwell on what could’ve happened. That is useless. I could have died in that river, or one of your scrapes before we met could have killed you. None of that matters. What did happen is that I survived, and you survived, and you’re safe, and Garrett is dead. That is what is important. I’ll be here with you for as long as you’ll have me because of what happened, because we lived.”

“How are you this calm?”

For the first time, Fitz noticed that Grant’s hands, resting on his chest, were trembling.

“I’m not sure this has hit me just yet, I feel a little bit numb, and I’m sure I’ll have a good cry when we’re home, but right now, you need me more.”

“For years, Garrett trained me to be an emotionless robot, a soldier who wouldn’t blink at anything. And I honestly used to be. I was cold and hard, and I didn’t care about anything. This wouldn’t have affected me before, and I hate that. I hate that person I was.”

Fitz curled his hands over Grant’s.

“You’re not him, though. Not anymore. Meeting Daisy, adopting Buddy, choosing to stay in Project Management, you have changed since meeting Garrett. You are not cold and hard. I can personally attest to that. Who you are is who you choose to be every morning, every day.”

“You know, meeting you, falling in love with you, that changed my life.”

Fitz kissed Grant, then, soft and simple.

“Mine too.”

Finally changed into his street clothes, Fitz brought Grant into  Gonzales’s office.

“Grant Ward,”  Gonzales greeted, looking up from his screen finally. “Piper mentioned you were instrumental in keeping Fitz and the company safe. If you ever need a recommendation, you’re welcome to call on me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And Leo Fitz,”  Gonzales said. “You’ve come a long way very quickly. How are you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“Come sit down.”

Fitz sat in the chair opposite  Gonzales , Grant sitting beside him . 

“I want to go over the next steps after an incident with you, Leo.”

For Fitz, when someone habitually called him by one name, and then switched to another, it was jarring. Concerning.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all. Our first step is to hear what happened in your own words. We have the video recording, and Piper’s statement, but it’s important that we have yours as well.”

Fitz would find himself repeating this story for weeks, bored and tired, anxious that someone was going to point out how stupid he was for trusting a voice in a crate, or for turning his back on Garrett, for everything he’d stay awake every night analyzing. 

“We have a trauma counselor that works with employees following these types of incidents, and I would like to get you in to see him soon.”

“I have my own therapist, thank you.”

“Unfortunately, this is mandatory. He will evaluate you and declare you fit for duty so you can resume work.”

Fitz didn’t roll his eyes but it was a near thing.

“I was looking at your file, actually, and noticed that you haven’t taken a vacation this year since you left Project Management. I’m going to politely request that you use some of your accrued time for the next week or two.”

“Sir,” Fitz started.

“Don’t argue with me on this.”

“I’m not. I have a question, though.”

“Go ahead.”

“Is this a punishment or a reward?”

“John Garrett,”  Gonzales said slowly, “has been on our radar recently, making moves against us but we didn’t have enough to take him down, nothing incriminating. He’d already slipped from our grasp once, so we wanted something undeniable. He’s just been a shadow creeping in the corner. We knew about Grant’s connection with him, so we’ve been monitoring that to see if he was going to try and make a move against the company that way. We know, or rather knew how dangerous he was, not just to the organization but to our individual employees as well. When we send you out to guard the compound, we are asking you to put yourself in danger for the continued safety and prosperity of Shield Tech, and today, you did exactly that. So, it’s a reward, and we know your history with our company, you deserve a rest, Leo.”

Fitz wondered what was in his file, then. What had Coulson or Weaver reported about him?

“Thank you,” Fitz said, and his eyes went to Grant at his side.

“I’m also willing to speak with your manager, Grant, to ensure your vacation is granted as well, for what you did for this company as well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Your leave starts now, then,”  Gonzales said, and pushed two papers across the desk at them. “Just sign here.”

Fitz looked it over quickly, an agreement that they wouldn’t speak to the press about this incident. He just wanted to go home, so he signed and stood.

“Two weeks, sir?”

“The rest of this week, and then the following two sound good to you?”

“It does. Thank you.”

* * *

Fitz couldn’t speak after they stepped out of  Gonzales’s office, something freezing up inside of him once he had handled all of the work business, but he found that he didn’t have to. Grant took his hand as they left, and held it all the way back to their apartment. 

“Hey, come here,” he said in their bedroom, catching Fitz by the hips. “You’re okay.”

Fitz buried himself into Grant’s chest, safe and at home, and then, he started to cry. He let the crack in his chest break open, and Grant wrapped his arms tight around Fitz, tucking him underneath his chin. He just held him. Fitz had been through a lot in his life, and he wasn’t a crier. His first reaction was usually anger, a sharp comment wielded to keep people away. People had always been the thing that hurt him the most, their bigotry and callousness. 

But here, in Grant’s embrace, locked away from the world, Fitz couldn’t reach for that anger. All he had left was exhaustion and fear. 

“You’re safe, Leo. He can’t hurt you, or me anymore. He’s gone.”

Grant moved them onto the bed sometime later when Fitz’s feet started to ache from standing still for so long, Fitz carefully tucked into his side, his fingertips tracking even lines down his side.

“Do you want to hear a story?”

Fitz nodded even as he hiccupped through a sob. Getting Grant to talk about his past was akin to bathing a feral lynx  somedays .

“Handful of years ago, I met Daisy, who went by Skye back then. We were in the same group interview for the Project Management positions Shield had just created. We were the only two hired, and we were kind of stumbling through what exactly the job entailed. Whatever that meant, we had each other for it and we became really close. I have a sister, but Daisy became my family.”

Fitz loved the way Grant talked about Daisy, how he praised her and doted on her even when she wasn’t there. Before Daisy, Grant hadn’t had anyone to love openly, to care for who wouldn’t reject his affection or scorn him for it. It had been Daisy, and the Project Management team that had shown him what family and friendship should be.

“So, Daisy and I settled into our jobs, and each other. She taught me how to be a normal human in the world again, with proper manners and social skills. She put me back together, which she didn’t have to do, and what she couldn’t fix, she saw me through fixing myself. I was a terrible person after what Garrett put me through, and I was awful to be around.”

Fitz curled his hands into Grant’s shirt, his breathing finally evening out with Grant’s soft, gentle tone.

“So, I started going to therapy, and learning about trauma, and PTSD, and how to cope and live with what had happened. I learned how to control my anger, and do something constructive like clean or build when I felt helpless or lost. I got better, and I became a better person to be around.”

He paused, and Fitz suspected he knew where this story was leading, and he wanted to hear every word.

“Then, Jemma took up one of the last positions in the department and I watched Daisy fall head over heels for her so easily. I’d never seen her so happy or starry eyed as she was when she was with Jemma, and all I’ve wanted was Daisy to be happy. She’s done so much for me, I wanted to do something in return.

“Daisy invited me to drinks with her and Jemma, a couple weeks before you were hired, actually, because she wanted us to get to know each other better.”

Fitz let out a laugh because he’d heard this story before but from Simmons’ perspective.

“I see you’ve heard this before.”

Fitz nodded, but said, voice thick with the remnants of tears, “but please do tell me anyway.”

“So, I know Jemma from work, but I’m not great with people anyway. It’s a miracle that Daisy took a chance on me. I hadn’t really talked to her beyond where she could find extra paperclips or what the copier code was. I met Jemma and Daisy at the restaurant, and immediately spill water all over myself. I’ve never spilled anything on myself like that. Garrett specifically trained me to have excellent reflexes and off the charts hand-eye coordination. But meeting my best friend’s girlfriend made me clumsy and nervous.”

Fitz loved that image, stoic and serious Grant Ward fumbling trying to impress Jemma Simmons. 

“We don’t have anything in common, or at least we didn’t before. We come from vastly different upbringings. Everything Daisy tried to connect us on failed. It’s not like I know anything about biochemistry, and Jemma was never forced to be a solider.”

Fitz nodded.

“I was honestly trying, too, but I just kept making everything worse, making her uncomfortable. And then, we decided on one last drink and then we’d be done for the night. Except that I went to stand at the same time as the waitress brought the tray of drinks around the corner, and our drinks went all over me and Jemma.”

“She loved that dress, too,” Fitz commented. “Mourned it when the stain wouldn’t come out.”

“And I thought, god, she’s going to hate me forever and Daisy is going to leave or something, and then, she started laughing. It was the most wonderful sound I’d ever heard, and we just started laughing all together. The waitress must have thought we were crazy, but Jemma was laughing and picked ice out of her bra, and I was just so relieved, and it didn’t matter what had happened up until then.”

Fitz smiled, wiping away the last errant tear on Grant’s shirt.

“And then, the highlight of the night,” Grant said, surprising him. “Jemma called her best friend to bring her some dry clothes so she didn’t get hypothermia on the way home.”

Fitz had forgotten that, actually. He’d been halfway through a pint of Chubby Hubby when Simmons had called, still cackling.

“I didn’t think you saw me.”

“Daisy said Jemma was trying to get you to apply when the position was posted, and I was curious who would be working with us, so I might have snuck a little peak at you. Daisy called me a creeper, but.” Fitz felt him shrug. “When I saw you, I forgot everything. I’d never seen someone who did that to me, and I wasn’t used to it.”

“I looked terrible that night,” Fitz said, remembering that he’d thrown on an old hoodie from  uni that had a burn on the sleeve from an experiment gone wrong, and he hadn’t shaved since his last day at  CyberSecure .

“You were smiling at Jemma, and  I was just gone already.”

“That fast?”

“Garrett kept me isolated from people, and told me that anyone with a friendly smile might use me for their own gains. Which, looking back, is extremely ironic. But once I started working at those lessons, turns out that I had no actual defenses underneath.”

Fitz drew equations on Grant’s chest with his fingertips.

“So, I saw you outside and just had no defense against how fucking gorgeous you are.”

He scoffed and Grant squeezed the back of his neck to quiet him.

“Why’d it take you two years to do anything about it then?”

“Half because I wasn’t sure what I was feeling or that I didn’t want to accept what it meant. The other half was that I didn’t know you were gay until that New Year's Eve party.”

“ Ahh ,” Fitz said. “Well, for the first time in my life, thank you, Will Daniels.”

“Besides, it took two years for my therapist to convince me to take a chance outside of my comfort zone.”

“Aren’t you glad you did,” Fitz teased, but he himself did feel incredibly glad that Grant had gone to that party.

“Always,” Grant replied and kissed Fitz’s forehead.

They quieted, and Fitz started to drift off, emotionally and physically exhausted.

“Wait,” he said, a thought poking him over and over. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, you can.”

“It’s about your relationship with Garrett.”

Grant’s reply came a little slower, “okay.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, okay. I’m not entitled to anything.”

“Fitz, just ask.”

“What exactly  _ was _ your relationship? You’ve told me about the training and leaving you in the woods, and overall, the terribleness he’d put you through. But some things he said, I don’t think I actually understand what happened between you.”

Grant let out a slow, deliberate breath, and Fitz let him, let him think about his answer in the quiet of their room.

“It’s hard to define, or simplify, because it was a lot of things. He was both a savior and a jailor, you know. I was grateful at the time for what he’d done, getting Christian to drop the charges and getting me out of prison, that I gave him whatever he wanted, did whatever he told me to. So, it was whatever Garrett wanted it to be. I was whatever Garrett wanted, too. Sometimes, that was sex, sometimes a punching bag, someone to mentor, someone to scapegoat. All he wanted was a doll to make do what he wanted. He could have chosen anybody, but I was young enough to not know better, and pretty enough to interest him, and dumb enough to believe his lies and go along with it.”

“Don’t,” Fitz whispered, cutting Grant off before he could continue. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Grant. You’re not dumb; it’s entirely on Garrett for fooling you.”

Grant laughed, wry and bitter. 

“Yeah, that’s what my therapist says, but it doesn’t feel true. I got myself into that situation, no one else but me.”

Fitz tipped his head back and looked at Grant, barely visible in the darkness.

“Hey, no,” he said quietly.

Grant sighed and kissed Fitz on the forehead.

“We really  do  need to see our therapists after tonight,” Fitz said with a wry laugh of his own. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t be. It’s not going to go away by ignoring it, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“And you deserve to know. I want you to know all of me, and that unfortunately includes my time with Garrett.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Fitz replied. “I know it’s hard to share the dark stuff.”

Grant laughed at that.

“Leo, you told me literally everything  the New Year's Eve we got together. ”

“Yeah,” Fitz said, leaning into the pillows. “I’m not usually that open about everything , you know. You make me feel at ease. I can’t explain it. I never could. I just remember that I wanted you to know about me, the broken pieces, the dark spots. If, if you were going to stick around,  and I really hoped that you would, then  you had to know. I can’t hide the effect of the attack, you know. I lose words, I can’t hold things sometimes, I have lapses of memory; I can’t hide those things. You had to know.”

Grant nodded.

“I’m glad you told me, though. It meant I could help you, look out for you, be good for you, understanding.”

“You were always good for me,” Fitz said. “And I hope I can be the same for you. That’s what I’ve always wanted, ever since we met, ever since I started working at Shield, before we started dating. Sitting across from you for two years, all I wanted to do was know you and help  you , and be good for you, whether that was friends or, well, this. I really wanted  _ this  _ specifically. I never imagined I could have it, of course, you were hot and unattainable and straight, but I wanted this.”

Grant paused to consider this, curling fingers in the back of Fitz’s shirt.

Finally, he said, “how lucky we both were to want the same thing at the same time, then.”

Somewhere in the past, Fitz was  getting ready for his first day at Shield Tech, unaware of what lied ahead of him. He was buttoning his shirt, begging his fingers to just do the work, and fixing his hair to try and look semi-decent.  He was walking through the lobby with Jemma, and then he was seeing Grant Ward for the first time. No part of him then could have guessed that they would end up here, semi-engaged, in love, having faced death and  destruction, having survived. No part of him had seen Grant Ward in his  button-down and slacks with his hair perfectly styled and thought, I’m going to marry that man some day.

Somewhere in the past, Grant  was  step ping out of his old life, away from Garrett’s influence, and  was learning about letting himself be loved.  He was  getting a drink with Daisy, and joking around with Coulson, and working out with May. He was becoming the person who stepped between Fitz and a gun. He  couldn’t have imagined what would come next, sitting down on the chair on the roof across from Fitz,  that bottle of whiskey between them, talking about their past and their secrets. 

Just like Fitz, laying in their bed, quiet in their space, only the sounds of Faraday and Buddy playing in the living room,  who couldn’t imagine what came next after this, but so willing to leave the baggage of this night behind and  journey forward with Grant at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally been working on this fic since January, so it's a relief to finally have it posted and completed! Thank you so much for reading! Come talk to me on [Tumblr](kaytikazoo.tumblr.com) about all things!
> 
> -k


End file.
